Sunday, 23 August 2009
Ever since I hit rock bottom I've been running from that feeling. I used to run in fear of loneliness, then I woke up and realized loneliness isn't the worst thing you can experience. I've also heard that "there is no worse death than the end of hope." But only poet's believe such flowery truths. I'm not only a poet. I am a poet, but I'm also so much more. I think. I hope. Maybe...someday...maybe...never. Ever since I hit rock bottom I've been running from that single moment when I realized I could fall no further. When there's nowhere left to fall only one door stands open for you. And it isn't much of a door, more like an archway into the only possible fate left. From my place upon the floor I raised my head and looked through that archway into the bitter end of eternity then shut my eyes tight and prayed to gods I don't believe in, begging to forget everything. The problem is that I've already reached the end and the only thing I'm doing now is playing hide-and-seek with destiny. Like a child who doesn't want to be found, I'm hiding in closets, behind bathroom doors, in shadowed corners hoping that I can elude destiny forever. But the reality is that we all have to die sometime. I know my destiny is staring down the barrel of a gun. I know I'll be the one who pulls the trigger because I want to be the one who pulls the trigger. I just don't want to be ready to do that yet. I don't want to have to because I don't want this to have to be the end. Every part of me that's still human fights against it. I want there to be so much more, I want heaven to open itself to me and shine it's glorious light down upon me, but I know that the sun sinks every day and nothing's going to stop this repetitive process even after I'm gone. The world won't stop spinning just because one more soul goes missing. Ever since I hit rock bottom I've been running from reality, hiding out in my clever games, covering up the truth with lies, smiling until my plastic mask splits in two and reveals my shattered face beneath. I've been running from the inevitable and I know it, but I still won't accept it because I just don't want to. I know the end is here, I know the doorway to death is standing wide open, beckoning me in, but I just don't want to walk through it yet. I have to try to climb out of this hole first, even though I know it's a long way back to the surface and there's no plausible way there; no ladder to climb, no stairway to heaven, no escalator always going up, there's nothing and no one going to save me, not even myself. In the end, I am all alone and that's just how it's supposed to be. That's just how I want it to be. I'm just not ready to accept it quite yet. At one time I was, but at the last minute I ran into the sunset hoping I could catch the horizon like they do in the movies.