Good Old Foggy Haze

I do not mean to be mired in past images and memories, but I am writing about living during a period of time when I was walking around in a complete daze of impactful thoughts. They would tattoo me out of nowhere back then, and as opposed to now where I know their meaning, back then they were all so overwhelming. Those days become real again, and I write words that place me in that skin again. I listen as words vibrate through my mind like a conversation I always knew was coming.

I am wont to be grabbed by a mischievious smile, a slight look that lasts longer than the average second, and the thought of what a life together could be like. But, I also know what a rough road feels like underfoot, and have tasted the bite of bad choices made versus better decisions to make. As hard as it can be and it may possibly get, it was once as hard as I have ever known...and that I survived with my head held high. No one will ever take that away from me, and you may be surprised to know that is not my inspiration. It is my will to survive that pushes me, the telling of a story that subsides within me, and the search for my soul that holds me.

It is in between the mad scratches of black onto white and the telling of my days, that I come across other times and other insights. A song can reach in and select its choice of dancing partners, and in the background the camera whirls silently on. This would be one of those times. Here you go, and may you enjoy.

I walked to school last year, a light fall rain falling over me, and to my right lay the Bedford Basin. Guitar strings played in my ears, and my eyes captured water joining with water, lightly skipping over the surface, and becoming one as it is meant to be. Ahead of me lay my future haunt for the next four years of my life, and I was to soon continue the writing of my book. My first draft lay finished less than three or four months earlier, and I was nescient to the fact that the second one was to soon be transcribed.

But, on that day, all that mattered to me was the sprinkle of life across my face. Images of days spent in front of assorted harbours, in awe of the ocean and its seemingly depthless power, and this time was no different. I was waging control over my decisions, and making them in favour of self as opposed to destruction of self. I smiled because I knew that decision was leading me in the right direction.

And I smiled a little harder as that realization settled in.

I knew then, as I know now, that it is all up to us. It is all up to us to decide how our lives turn out, but we must heed messages over signs, and see that our life is expanding as our roads are broadening. Our choices come to us as we make them, and what we make from them is left in our hands. To this day, I have always enjoyed the ride even when I could barely cover the price of admission. Hedge your bets but always cover your ass.

One foot in front of the other, another one forward, and another step closer. Every song must have an end, as every journey must have a destination, and every blue sky must give away to the starlit heavens. I licked the salt on my lips, and wondered what was next. If I had known then what I know now...would there still be a chance of carrying on? Of course, for we all know time waits for no man. I would not have changed a thing and will feel the same in the end.

Amazing what thoughts can come from a walk in the rain on the East Coast of Canada, on a day in the life of me. I am unable to let troublesome days bring an end to me, and I refuse to let them defeat me, even as I question the ambiguity. I only know to hold my head high, throw my shoulders straight, and just keep walking. As many times I may write it, I see myself doing it. Do not let the atrocities of this world effect your outlook on the best gift you could ever ask for. Your right here and now present of life. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"Hark now hear the sailors cry, smell the sea, and feel the sky. Let your soul and sprirt fly into the mystic. When that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home. Yeah, when that fog horn whistle blows I want to hear it I don't have to fear it." - Van Morrison

Forgotten Promises

Sometimes, just sometimes, I lie awake at night, and think about her. Not her as the woman that I wanted to spend my ending days with, but her that I always thought would be in my life until my days ended. I think of the person I knew for half my life, and I think of the person she came to be, all of it in less than eight months...and then we were no longer.

I can handle the no longer, people, but, sometimes, just sometimes, my defences lower and my watchtower sentries flirt between the conscious and the unconscious. It is then that I have a hard time handling the no longer even friends part. It is then that I pick up my pen and just write. I scribble away the memories and forge on to where I know my road is heading; somewhere she is not, and to become someone I know I can be. The following would be some of my thoughts on those sleepless nights. Here you go, and may you enjoy.

It is the age-old game of the Universe versus humanity; one has been known to mock and the other has been known to betray. For me, it can sometimes come down to belief versus trust, and I wonder which one will win in the end? Or is it possible for a win-win situation where they both mould into one? Imagine that, people, imagine that it is all possible and you are one step closer to all your dreams.

My life dreams can occasionally throw unseen knuckle balls at me, and I stumble, slip, and fall. Yet my future is as clear as the proverbial carrot leading the donkey, and yes, every now and then, I have been known to make an ass out of myself. We all have our days, and for me, it is all a part of what makes us human, is it not? It is in the ability to laugh at yourself that we need to take pride in. But, as always, no matter what the costs, forward progression is the main link to survival. Sometimes though, just sometimes, it is okay to glance over your shoulder and see how far you have really come.

Is it wrong to miss old friends? The people who once were but now are not? I miss their presence, their smile, their arms around mine, and their acceptance of who I am. When my head becomes oh so heavy like it has been known to do, my survival in these moments hinges on memories; pushing forward on personal goals that become unspoken promises. I promise myself to continue on, and I promise to just place one foot in front of the other. The rest is just details lost on the rising wind.

Late one night, I was unable to sleep, and so spent a few quality hours pasting and arranging photographs into a pattern on my walls. Each and every frozen moment is a different theme, a different life, and another time. The Universe tests my will of progression by forcing me into situations where I am devoid of money, and then will step back; observing how I handle my odds. Belief in self is strength on its own for me, and I now find myself trusting in it more than I trust anything else. I want to be more, I want to see more, and if I believe that enough, then I trust that it will happen. Really, it as simple as that. Only time fills us in on the trivial details.

I see faces from my past that will always have a place in my present...even if they do not seem to care anymore. I will care enough for the both of us because even as I learn to forget, I see that I am learning to forgive. Through it all, I listen to my words, I trust in myself, and I believe in myself. Now, I just wait to see what the Universe asks for in return.

Love eludes my grasp, but I feel it rush back as a loved one takes me in their arms and holds me close. I feel it whisper in the air as I see a couple hold hands, I feel it brush my fingertips like the foamy ocean touches a soft beach, and I know it is not far until it comes to stay with me again. I will never give up, I will never falter in my steps, and I will never keep anything but the horizon as my life compass.

Each day leads to another morning, every second to another minute, and though the sun may set it will rise again. Sometimes, I wonder if she ever thinks of me, and if she ever wishes on the same star I used to wish on for us. But now, I just feel sad that there are two rocking chairs sitting and gathering dust. Maybe one day someone will walk by, and sit down for a short rest, and never ever leave. It waits for us all, people, it waits for us to make the journey of a lifetime because all we have in this life is time. Never forget who you are, and never forget we only have this one chance to become something even better. Until we meet again, people, until we meet again.

"Standing at the point, road across your doubts. What is at your back? Which way do you turn? Who will come and find you first? Your devils or your Gods? All you people think you run my life, say I should be willing to compromise...I say all you demons go back to hell. Save my soul; save myself." - Tracy Chapman