Still Living

 You know there are those people in life that you wonder "how are you still living?" I have one of those. He's my step brother. His life has been one bad choice after another. He smokes, does drugs, and drinks alcohol even though all of these activities aggravate his severe asthma. He is older than me only in age, because he acts like a 15 year old gang banger wannabe. He’s in his 30’s by the way. He has a criminal record, hangs out with disreputable people, has two kids that he doesn’t take care of, gambles constantly, and only does work when it suits him. What amazes me through all of this, is that he is insanely lucky. Things just fall into his lap and then, because he always wants more, he wastes whatever he’s given in an attempt to get more because in his diluted world he deserves it.

 Now, while it has been entertaining to vent about my step brother, I can’t give up on him. Not because of my generosity or a good heart, or through any religious sense, my reason is much simpler. The bastard saved my life once. When we were young, what seems like forever ago, our family went to the beach with our cousins. My stepbrother, who normally did not have time to spend with his family even when he was a teen, preferring to steal hubcaps and hood ornaments, actually came along. It was a great day and the water was cool and inviting, so my cousin and I got on one of those inner tubes and decided to try to swim to a distant buoy.  We were about half way when I decided I didn’t want to do this anymore, it was boring and too much trouble for what little fun we would get from reaching our goal. So I tried to turn us around and swim back. My cousin did not want to and, after a brief scuffle I decided just to swim back. I am a better than average swimmer, and was even at that time, so I pushed off and began swimming back. I began swimming freestyle, and then switched to the sidestroke as I tired, and then finally the backstroke. I continued to swim even though the water kept splashing in my face and interrupting my breathing. After what seemed like an eternity I decided I must be close enough to swim freestyle to the beach, but when I turned I found I was still a fair distance from the shore.

 I swam as hard as I could, trying to get as close to the beach as possible before switching back to backstroke, but a wave rolled over me and submerged me. I continued to swim, pushing to the surface but my wits had been swept away with the wave. I frantically kicked and lurched, throwing my arms forward in a haphazard motion paying no heed to my form or swimming technique. I was drowning, and what was worse is I knew I was too far for anyone to notice. I didn’t scream, or call out, not from any sense of pride but because each time I opened my mouth, whether to breath or shout, water came flooding in. My throat was raw from forcing air in around gulps of water and my arms and legs were tired and sore, each movement harder than the last. When I went under the second time, I took the largest breath I could and, forcing my appendages to coordinate, swam as hard as I could under the water. But when I went to resurface my body finally gave out. I reached the surface, but only long enough to throw my arms skyward before becoming submerged once more. I remember briefly feeling weightless before blacking out, although I cannot say if it was from the water, the fact that my entire body was numb, or some other unknown reason. I didn’t think about dying, or feel anything, there was no thrashing as my body convulsed from the lack of oxygen, just that weightless feeling, seeing the murky green hue of the water, and then darkness.

 A rushing feeling against my back brought me back to my senses. I coughed a few times before my throat was able to take in air, and I open my eyes. I didn’t know what to expect, or who, but I knew I had been saved. Then I looked up I saw my step brother. I had made it close enough that he could touch bottom only barely, so he had to swim at first to get me to where he could stand and walk. He had grabbed me around the chest and, while bringing my head out of the water and swimming forward, he had forced the water out of my chest. He walked back to the beach with his arm around my chest, dragging me, and when we were completely out of the water he let go and I fell to the floor where he sat down next to me. I couldn’t believe he was the one who saved me. This step brother who was never around, who was always getting into trouble so that my step dad would have to go get him at the police station and ruin whatever plans we made, who never seemed to even want to be part of our family. After things settled down and the stories were told my cousin got punished for not coming back for me, even though I told them it was my fault for jumping off the tube and trying to swim back alone. I don’t know if my step brother was congratulated, or even acknowledged, so busy was everyone with my well being and my cousins punishment.

 I wondered how he had seen me, how he had known I was in trouble, but I never asked. I should have, and could now, but all he remembers is that he saved me. The rest of it is lost in the haze of whatever he’s currently on. So ever since then I have tried to repay him for that. Not by any monetary means, he has a magic talent for acquiring money, but just by being there and helping him when he calls. Nothing he has ever asked has been illegal, and I am thankful to him for that. Mostly I give him a ride when whatever, or whoever’s car he’s driving breaks down and along the way listen to his wild ideas about how he’s going to make his money and get what he deserves.

 I could turn him down, or just not answer his calls. I could give up on him like many others have. I could say that, after at least fifteen years of being there for him I have repaid my debt. I do not though, not because saying that would make my life sound cheap, or because I think he is going to turn around one day. I guess I still do it because sometimes, when I go to pick him up, when we drive here or there and he goes on about this or that, I look into his eyes and I see a drowning boy sitting there, and all I can do is try to keep him afloat and pull him closer to the shore whenever he gets too far out into those murky waters to reach bottom.

 I guess maybe my point is that those people that you wonder how they can still be alive, well maybe they have a purpose they haven’t fulfilled yet, or maybe they have and whatever they did, whether they remember or even know of it, someone out there is trying to pay them back for that. Who knows, maybe you are the one keeping that person afloat and one day, when life takes you under and fills you with doubt until you can’t breathe anymore, they’ll be there to pull you ashore.

 One last thing, though. When I pick him up and help him out, when I glance into his eyes, even after all these years have gone by, there are times when I see his young eyes staring back while drowning, and sometimes I see my own.

An amazing piece of writing!

This is my first time adding a link, but I think this post by a fellow blogger is definitely worth it. So click HERE and check it out! Thanks Katie, for sharing your thoughts in such an uplifting way.

escapees

 I heard a song, though for the life of me now I cannot remember what song it was, and while I listened and sang along, in the horribly off tempo and bad keyed way that I do, I felt wetness on my cheek. It was a single tear. There was no hitch in my throat, that I could feel or hear through my idiotic warbling, no nose sniffling, nor was there any stinging in my eyes. There was only this single tear, and then after it another, two small escapees from that place I have kept all of my emotions prisoner. I did not feel sad, my sorry attempt at singing is one of the few things that I draw real joy from anymore, nor was I unhappy or disgruntled. But somewhere, something had cracked for just a brief instant and let these two tear drops flee. If anything, I was surprised, surprised by the feeling as they slid down my cheek, so much so that I did not dare wipe them away. I let them roll down my cheek and fall away. They had worked too hard to let their freedom be rescinded so heartlessly. I granted them their freedom. Who knows, maybe someday all of the other tears I’ve kept in will follow.

Simple Night

After a late invite I went to my friends’ house. They said it wasn’t a party or anything, just some friends coming over, which was fine with me. Of course, when I got there, I found it was only me. We sat and watched Golden Girls, laughing as much at the commercials as the show. Then another friend showed and we channel surfed a bit, drank a Smirnoff, and talked about nothing in particular. One last friend showed up and we watched Failure to Launch, went and picked up some Taco Bell, and talked of nothing more important than job applications, driving distances, and the weather. We stayed in the shallows when it came to our relationships, and that was fine with me. Over all, it was as enjoyable as it was ordinary. I hope to do it again, and soon. It was a simple night, with good friends.

Believe

 I went to church Sunday, which is rare for me. The pastor(preacher, reverend, whatever you call him) that normally is there was not, so they had a guest pastor. He was nice, made attempts at being funny, and was a good speaker. I think, if I did go to church regularly, I would much rather have a carousel of pastors, never having the same person speak to us twice in a row. It seems like, in my opinion, there is more freedom in this.
 The speaker was talking about Jonah, the guy who was swallowed by a whale. It was a good sermon, and made sense, as sermons usually do, but the thing that got me was more a sub point to his talk. He brought up John 3:36 which says: "He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him."
 He pointed out that, throughout the Bible, there is only one thing that can either condemn you to hell or rasie you up into heaven, and this is it. You have to believe, believe in Gods son. Are there trials and tribulations, are there rules and consequences if those rules are broken, of course. But through it all there is one thread that ties it all together, if you believe in Jesus, and ask his forgiveness, you'll be saved. I never thought of that before, the simplicity of that statement. The rest of his sermon spoke of why Jonah was swallowed by the whale, that he tried to run from what God wanted him to do, to hide from his duty, to leave the path God had set before him. And it was only after he was swallowed by the whale that Jonah accepted the task that he was given.
 So, while I am not highly religious (I doubt I will find myself back at church too soon), I am a believer, and whether these things that are happening in my life are part of the path that I'm suppose to follow, or signs leading me back to that path, I will continue to walk forward, because I believe.

Lust

 Raven hair, long and thick and black as night. It swirls as you spin, your fiery dress of orange and red barely covering your tan, lithe body. The flames lick at your legs, dance in time around your feet, merging then separating from your clothing as if they are two parts of the same fabric. Your eyes burn like dark coals of black and red, your lips hold a sneer that pulls me closer even as it stabs at me.

 “Come into the fire,” you call in my mind. “Come dance with me, you know you want to.” She spins quickly, the tails of her dress flying out and away like sparks shooting into the sky, bright flashes of heat and intensity. The flash of her long legs, dark and sinuous like cords of wood, and yet seeming so delicate as she moves softly from one to the other, do not give heat but draw it from you, igniting passions and desires in long forgotten places.

 You take a step closer, and in response the fire blazes, singing your skin with its force, holding you back with its ferocity, and still she calls. “Dance with me, lover,” she coos now in your mind, imaginary fingers sliding along the length of your spine. “Touch me,” and there is a warmth on your chest as if her hands already caress your bare skin. Every word drips with the drug desire; each whisper injects more into your veins.

 The fire she lit inside you is growing; the heat is flowing through you, your blood like gasoline on the flames. She bends down as she twists and turns to music only she can hear over the roar of the flames, the curve of her breasts is evident through the tight dress, and her movements seem half challenge half plea to place your hands upon her.

 You step closer again, the flame within you rivaling the inferno that surrounds her. It blazes further, turning white and blue from the immense heat that it is sending out. Her dress too is white and blue, shining like diamonds, like the sun itself. The brightness of her dress only accentuates her body, the darkness of her skin, the black of her hair, the burning in her eyes.

 You bring your hands up, not for protection from this flame that has already burned away your clothes, and is even now searing your flesh, but to reach out to her. You continue forward even as the flames envelop your hands and arms. There is no pain, only numbness and shock as the flames eat away your nerves, burn and blister your body, strip away your skin and blacken muscle and bone.

 Still she smiles at you, still she calls you to her, moving and dancing, her eyes never leaving yours as her body seduces and draws you closer. Her smile is one of satisfaction now, and her eyes are portals to the depths of hell itself, and she watches you come closer and closer, until your body gives out, your bones cracking from the heat, and you fall to the floor. Still you push forward, crawling toward her, needing to touch her, needing to feel her. The fire consumes you, skin, muscle, flesh and bone. All that remains is a pile of ash, until even that is burned away and there is nothing left. Only a flame and a dancer.

The waters fall

There is, hidden somewhere in the world, a magnificent waterfall. In its clear waters are seen flecks of gold and flashes from diamonds. This waterfall has not only one rainbow, but a thousand dancing among the mist. Some would say it is simply the suns light refracting through the diammonds and the water. But, when the clouds roll over head to bring the waters back up to the mountains, when the sky is dark as night and there is no light to be found, still there are rainbows dancing here.

 Why is that, you ask? It is because there is magic here. The rainbows reflect the light that shine from the waters, for in the journey down the mountain, the waters pick up things more precious than diamonds and more valuable than gold. They collect, in each little droplet, the wishing stars that have fallen down onto the mountain side as their wishes pull them from the sky. The waters bring those stars down from the mountain, and as the waters fall they release those wishing stars into the world, helping them on their way to fulfilling those wishes. As the stars fly away, they blaze through the mist, and the rainbows dance by the thousands. The light bounces off of every surface, from every diamond, because nothing shines more brightly than a wishing star after all.

Let...

Let it be good. Let things go my way. Or at least let them go the right way, even if thats not the way I expect them to go. Let the sun find me, and shine until all the clouds are gone. Let the words I cannot find find me instead. Let the friends I thought I had be replaced with friends I deserve, even if its the same person. Let me grow stronger from my trials, and softer from my happy moments, so much so that by the end of this year I am more pillow than stone. Let this new year bring with it all the things I've lost in the last year, and let me be open enough to recieve them. And if it cannot be good, then just let it be.

Out with the old...

 Now is the time to start anew. Now is the time to leave behind the life you left behind, the pain and the trouble, the people and the drama. Now is the time to remove yourself from all that was, just let it all go and focus on what is.

 Because what is is the important thing. What was means nothing. Only fools live in the past, and make dreams from memories. Take only what and who you want with you into the future, and cut away the waste that is everything else. Live in the happiness that they bring you, and forget everyone else. This is a new dawn, a new day, a new year, and a new life. There is no past, only your new future.

W's

 Who is this man in the mirror? I am not myself anymore. I used to joke and smile with the image I saw, flex and laugh and call myself sexy, and even believe it sometimes. Now I only stare, and count off my flaws, all the reasons why. I'm not big enough, not strong enough, I'm too short, too small. I'm not ugly, but by no means am I handsome. I'm just a below average brown eyed brown haired man, not even worth the dime for a dozen.

 What happened? I'm becoming someone completely different on the inside. I changed, that's what happened. I should have kept things the way they were, kept it all locked away and safe, but I didn't. I opened up, and now I can not close that door again. Not that it would matter. What was kept there is now gone, like opening Pandora's Box, and now only foolish hope remains.

 When did I lose it all? I wish I knew. I run it all through my head like a movie, and point out everything I did wrong, my own critic. But to say when it started, or what ended it, is impossible. I will never know, unless I am told. Then again, the when of it doesn't matter.

 Where is my faith? It's fading slowly with the time. It's not gone, but it's not what it was. It feels so weak at times that I could blow it away with a single breath, so I hold my breath. What would I be without my faith? If I don't believe in forever, what is there to believe in?

 Why can't I cry over this. Why do I have to laugh and smile and put on a good face. No one says I have to, but then again no one wants to share my pain. When you are the rock, you're not supposed to cry. So I don't, I won't. Rocks do not cry, you cannot draw tears from a stone. So I will let the tears fall on the inside, and let them fill me up until I've drowned my own soul.

Let go

 Find what you love most, that thing you've given the most of your heart to, and let it go. Just set it free.
"Will, it come back?"

 If you're asking that question then you really haven't let it go, have you? There is still a thread tying you to it. Just let it go, cut that last string. It's not coming back, there is no meant to be. Even that simple hope is a shackle. It is the smallest thing, but the strongest chain.

 The only way to love is to give it all away. Give until it hurts, and then give some more. Let the broken pieces of your heart be their wings to fly away. And when you have no heart left, when you are all loved out, when you have nothing left inside you, you'll look into the sky and see a flash of light off of broken hearted wings.

 Their not coming back to you, but knowing that they are out there, free and happy, is enough, right...?