I'm Never Going Back

It's been over five and one half months since I've written a goddam thing,

so I have to issue an apology to the cafe for refusing to sing,

I got lost somewhere along the way and forgot the way back.

Well really that's a lie because I could see it all along,

but that doesn't matter because I'm back and I'm here to sing my song.

 

        I guess I thought I was the only one who tacked sheets on my bedroom window, locked myself in the bathroom stall at school with a bottle of Jagger and a bucket of shame, lied to every single soul in my life, myself, my family, my friends, dowsed myself in lighter fluid and Jameson, flipped on the rocket boosters, and rocketed myself right off the face of the goddam planet. Feel free to unfasten your seat-belts and float about the cabin. And that is exactly what they did. By they I mean all of the people I forced into my maniacal spacemobile and had the unfortunate fate to still be around when I took the f**k off. No questions asked, Death to any who would question my piloting skills. Many still reside on the planet neptune. Some may return on their own accord and still others with the help of a 9th step amends. But there are a few who may never return to my earth. Rightfully so, because for the last 3 years I have done nothing but transform it into a living hell for all of it's residents. I crafted a beautiful, blue-green shell which slipped nicely over the nightmare that was the surface. And from the outside my world was a vision of perfection save for a few cracks. But reality does not have a few cracks. And that shell was still nothing but that, a shell. It could not be reality because of it's cracks, and it's imperfections. And because of it's windows. Windows like this, that I let people like you look through. And I assure you that you were indeed the only ones. People like you got to look because you did not know me. I got to tell somebody things that didn't effect them. It helped give me a sense of freedom. But that was my only sense of freedom. My writing was the only facet of my life in which I truly let some see who I was, but even then it was glossed over and mostly manipulative. Because while I was allowing myself to be honest about things, I would never allow myself to be honest about me, and my part in all of those things. So these were dusty windows at best. Events in my life began to pry at these cracks in my faux reality, and cracks began to slowly spread in the dusty windows. And on the inside, I was completely oblivious. There were many, many prisoners in my world, but there was one who was kept in twenty-four-hour-lock-down, every day of every week of every month, for several years, kept in solitary confinement. It was me. And I sent out an impersonator of myself to live and interact in the world and though it appeared to be me. It was not. I cried to hide the fact that I was happy, and I laughed to hide that I was sad. I hid in rooms full people, and I blended in by standing out. I became the perfect enigma so that nobody would be able to look at me from any one angle. A piece of me was always shaded, always hidden. Sometimes, very rarely, I really was the impersonator, and I would begin to forget about the prisoner. I would almost taste reality, because if the prisoner could break free of his chains and simply fall into the impersonator, and actually live as he did, then his world would cease to be a lie. But this isn't what happened. While I was trying to forget about myself, my reality was becoming still weaker. One day a hole formed in the ceiling. Rather than abolish this alcoholic, addict reality, I buried myself deeper within it, and tried to patch that hole shut. I tried to ignore a clear message from a higher power that everything I had created was about to come to an end. I ran harder and faster than ever, and then my entire world fell in on my head. It hurt, a lot. It took a lot of pressure, and it took a lot of digging, but the universe had broken through and made contact with me. It had to do so violently, but that was the only way. It had taken a long time to finally happen, but the effect was almost immediate. I clawed my way out of the wreckage of all I had created. The impersonator who had been a god in that world lay dead before my feet, and the prisoner was a prisoner no more. I felt the cool air on my face, and tasted it's freshness for the first time in a long time. I had forgotten that I hadn't always been the prisoner and that the god impersonator hadn't always existed. I had forgotten that I had been free before. I don't ever ever intend to go back. The person that walks around this world today is me. No prisoner or impersonator or god or liar or manipulator. I'm just here again, and I cannot begin to explain how amazing it is. For lack of better words, it's f*****g great.

 

 

 

             Thanks for reading,

             Dillon, The real one.