bust through the firewall into heaven
depression never leaves me. i can ignore it in brief moments of vacuuming or folding. in driving. i find it hard to identify a home. my home is transition. my home is the ten freeway, the left lane, the 80 mph blinding speed i achieve, rhythmically to get from one transient abode to another. i create a relationship with the gas pedal, the firm smooth leather of the steering wheel and the music that propels my four wheels. the poetic and disturbing words of my favorite artist. his believable philosophy. how riddled i am with existential musings. the who am i what am i where do i go from here circular thoughts that never do seem to end.
and i find myself more isolated than ever. living in a wash of chemicals and endorphins that never do their job. never communicate properly to my neurotransmitters to tell them to lighten up. breathe easy and free of tar. to laugh at the bad and rejoice in the few moments of good. of bliss. that i know are still attainable.
and my attention span is shrinking. cannot finish a book, a day without feeling insanely bent up and frustrated. my lips are cut from a different kind of self distruction. one that takes place when my mind slows down and forgets depression and gets absorbed in the darkness of evening. with my head pressed firmly against my pillow i pray never to leave. do not take me away from this earth. i pray i will accomplish something. even if it is just getting out of bed on-time or kicking a bad habit. i pray i will craft talent and turn this misery into art. that there must be a reason i suffer so profoundly, so suffocatingly that i cause myself to be short of breath. awaking with a respiratory ache that can only come from damage. from living too hard at a young age. from not appreciating my youth and attempting to damage, quite severly my young and resilient body. but i feel 45. i feel older with each step i take as my bones hit the ground and my spine continues to curve, downwards, closer to whatever exists below this life. or above.
i feel thin. frail. eating as much as one meal a day. coffee. nicotine. nothing good for me. i search for comfort. affirmation. never reached such a self depricating place. i cling to the past but thank god i am done with my abysmal summer. thank god he is gone. out of sight out of mind. finally realizing you are not worth my time.
i am slowly but surely working on arriving somewhere. crafting my talent and harnessing damage into productive, coherent thoughts. to bring me to a solid ground to stand on. where my bones aren't crushed by gravity. where there is nothing keeping me down. i will shake this. this growing leeching darkness that no longer sits on my chest but exists in my veins, in my tendons and muscles and every inch of my body. that crawls through me while i sleep and manifests itself in parasitic dreams. how i am abusing myself as a host. how there are trecherous jungle animals in places they don't belong. how they try and seize me and become me, take me down with them until there is no crack of light. but i am the watcher. i am observing this depression and it is not me. i will eliminate it by having faith that i am above it. that it is an aspect of me and not my total self. that i have a chance at happiness. at freedom. that death will be salvation and a conclusion to this painfully transient and incomprehensible existence. how it will be a relief. how i will accept it when it comes as i have learned to accept all changes in this life. how i will continue to grow and age and love every wrinkle on my forehead as evidence that i have lived. and learned and loved and enjoyed this very fragile blessing. this miracle. the wonder.
