Is watching Requiem for a Dream with roommates who scoff at the downward spiral message and then call your boy from jail to ask him to remove the syringes taped under his dresser so his parents can collect his furniture after he destroyed his parents house while they were out of town in a very out of hand party.

Never have I ever, will I ever, could I ever fathom crossing that threshold of destruction. I guess that’s one of those assessment points where I clearly has to define the space of oh, these aren’t the people I thought they were.

Thinking about

Conversations I’d hear in Wyoming after someone I did not know but was connected to the group I traveled amongst OD’d.

Very quietly they’d ask each other ” do you think he knew? Was it intentional?” As if the threshold for healthy drug consumption was consistent and universally known for all of them and the only way they could have possible let themselves slip away was if it were intentional.

I’m reminded of that Puscifer song Breathe, where the chorus is quite literally a reminder to ‘don’t forget to breathe ‘ and perhaps there where moments in my relaxed state where I had to tell myself to inhale because I was so comfortable that this function that is taken for granted as autonomous eluded me. I was just lucky that my experiments didn’t take me somewhere blacker than the deepest pitch.

I knew guys who would go to people’s houses, pretending their car was broken down so that they could use the restroom and raid the medicine cabinet. I knew guys who would enter into relationships with people who had crippling disabilities.. not to provide comfort for that person but to exploit their monthly prescription for personal use and were abusive in their manipulations and the poor girl was so love hungry and guilt ridden over her own personal history that despite my best efforts I could not help her get into a healthier space. (I’m sorry Christina, when I read about your death I was shook but they frightened me too much to intercede further, especially when you yourself were unwilling)

At one point the son of a local cop, and fellow high school attendee robbed the pharmacy with a friend by climbing through the duct work. The only reason they were caught was because they wouldn’t shut up about it at parties.

I had this naive sense that the big guy I was with could protect me from the other unsavory sorts I had already experienced previously and sure maybe our home for a time was safer than others but ultimately his desire for a particular lifestyle cost us that safety and trust. I don’t blame him as I am also responsible for the peices I participated in and accepted as just natural behaviors of those I was surrounded by, I had just hoped that given his proclaimed history of trauma that we were both of the mindset to craft something better.

To escape I didn’t exactly take the path of complete sobriety but chose the process of elimination to take out those things I found most detrimental to my personal wellness.

Today I am far removed from that which was but my experiences crafted something more fearful in me about the greater state of our social climate and I hear

What went wrong?

Ok I admit telling you I like you was stupid, but let me be honest why I did.
And before that, understand friends but as we were is what I seek.
Sure what I feel means I would love more but that has no impact here because I know without doubt, you either do not, cannot or will not.
But we were not just work colleagues.
If I met someone, asked to see their bikini pics, they would say no.
If I am on the way home, then as they drive past -random colleague- they don’t flash me with their lights.
No work pal, shares sexual fantasies. Some said that I spent too much time around you, maybe true, yet deliberately I tried not to, however a fact is, you would come say you were going home, not me, I never once did.
You as often as I, would come to see if I were taking break.
Not one other co-worker would have let me stroke their hair, play with their ears, etc.
Not many, though a couple would tell me past trauma, or about therapy.
So I admit I was over the top, but things changed long before then.
Around the time when you went off work maybe?
Before then it was 100% perfect. If my keeping in touch was the issue, well I can’t take back what I said then, none was rude, suggestive or requesting “more” than what we were.

So things seemed to be good after the clearing of the air, yet not really.
Now it is like we know each other to say hi to.
I already said, I know how we were, and believed we were closer than everyone else, you said yes to that.
So that camaraderie is what I wanted, but it is clear that has gone.
This is not for you as such, if it were I would talk direct, it is more for me to get my head straight, can I figure it out?
Truth is, no. The way we were, I, indeed anyone would have expected a message once at least between me being ill, and now, how are you, hope things went well. But if I don’t say something first-nothing-and sometimes if I do.
That is what I can’t get my head round.
Are you scared that you do care and don’t want to?
Is it our polarised opinions on the thing that’s most important to you, I am not as far away as you think on that topic, just not yet ready to accept it how you do.
Is it that you feel nothing now and worry any nice gesture will encourage me?
The truth is I thought we had a bond of friendship and to me that mattered, I wanted it back, and as good as it was, yeah in part because I felt I meant more than others did, and I liked that.
But it did not make me think I had a chance. I know why we cannot be.
I said I get it and I do.
But the way it is, is the way it is.
What now then? For me, I like you -that I mean aside from any deeper feeling-as a person, I loved being around

Solitary confinement

I just feel so broken. It’s been this way for years, as long as I can remember. But lately I really feel it. How can anyone live this long and have no one? Sure, there are people who pretend to care. But they’re all way too self-involved to even lift a finger. And it’s always been this way. It can’t be like this for everyone else. I see the pictures, smiling, happy with their significant others, their babies; their families and friends. None of them are so alone they find themselves talking to themselves out of sheer loneliness. Like I’m doing now I guess. I have these dreams where I’m surrounded by people and I’m funny and flirty and liked and wanted and then I wake up to the same nothingness I left behind when I went to sleep. Every damn day. All these thoughts racing around my head and no one to share them with. What did I do so wrong that no one wants to be a part of my life? Family, friends, potential lovers, just rejection after rejection after rejection. I have to feel like I don’t deserve this, but I must. What other answer is there? “Hey, just love yourself and drink water and everything will be better!” Says everyone who has no fucking clue what my life has been like for so long now. Why don’t you love me and drink some water with me? Oh, I guess I’m just feeling sorry for myself again, time to go back to sleep. My life is so much better in that state.

I Am Not Happy

Today really sucked, per usual. Nonetheless, I was off from work for the last two days on PTO. I was alone and stuck in my thoughts for the most part. I don’t have any friends, so it’s hards to really talk to anyone about what I have been feeling. I tried the therapy thing, and it did nothing for me, honestly. So sometimes, I come here and I write about you or the other person who is often on my mind.

However, today is a different day bc I realized that I need to focus more on myself. I need to regroup and figure out how to get out of my funk. I am really bored and low keep depressed. I know I shouldn’t be complaining bc I am in a much better space than most people. I have a roof over my head and I still live at home with mom. I have a great job with a solid compensation package, and I am healthy despite having COVID several months back.

Honestly speaking, I feel tired…tired of everything. Tired of worrying about everything.

Expressing anger

In the end it’s nothing to really do with you. I was just tired of feeling angry at you. I wish I was emotionally mature enough for my reptilian mind to get that it isn’t really other people who make us angry; it’s the unmet expectations we once formed for them.

Apparently I’m not that conscious after all. You wouldn’t have gotten much more out of me.

And then there was nothing..

Been thinking a lot about you lately.. I wonder what could have been if I hadn’t messed it all up… or if you had actually talked to me about what happened. What hurt the most was that you took someone else’s word without even talking to me. I thought we ran deeper than that. The truth was I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared. What it created instead was a monster and a formidable silence that can’t be broken.

The hurt after forgiveness

I’ve finally reached that point of forgiveness, where nothing from the past matters. It doesn’t bother me anymore and every mistake on both sides were because we are human.

I forgive you

But there’s still that stabbing pain that comes with it…the acceptance of everything including the fact that I’ve truly lost a friend due to the bitterness, pain and anger on both sides

That’s what hurts me now Beautiful

Take care
Old man