Twenty-One

Well, here I am. The last major milestone before the inexorable slide. The last time you're expected to be treated like a pampered kid, the apple of everybody's eye. The last time that your youth is expected to blaze white-hot in the minds of those that know you, and you can stand resplendent before everybody. Yes. Here I am. I am young, and I made it, and I am shockingly beautiful and triumphant, and I will never die.

God, I thought such rot about turning 21 when I was younger, didn't I? Expectation and reality never mesh, and for that I am grateful.

So. Today I aged again, in an official sense. I've traveled around the sun twenty-one times. I received a phone call from my sister and a voice mail from my grandmother. I've received around forty messages from people (both close friends and barely known extras on the stage play that my life is) on my Facebook page. I've received an expensive camera and a few months of saxophone hire so I can pick up music again.

I argued with people on the internet about racism, I dyed my hair, I got a drawing done of myself. I ate a cheeseburger, I had spaghetti on toast. I played video games for most of the day and evening. I went to class and read my book and shunned everybody. I watched TV with my girlfriend. I talked to a house guest.

In short, I tried my very hardest to pretend that nothing was happening at all, and lo and behold, very little did.

And I am happy.

The Last Word

wave a hand
wave it away
curve the spine
open the door
and let the smoke billow forth from behind the pursed lips
that open like a cave
to reveal the soft pink flesh
and the little pipe
that leads to the whispering belly
the secret places deep within my core
the paths open and close every day
and none should ever be allowed to walk them
save those that can be trusted
not to look back.

the thing is
the real thing is
encoded within every flake of skin
inscribed over and around every follicle of hair
distilled in every drop of blood
every fleck of spit
every soft blink of my eyelids
transmitting morse code into the ether
the same message,
always the same
i am alive
i will survive
and i intend on continuing until 
the last possible moment.

two sides of a wrong coin
so weak, so weak
do not stop to think
your body does all the thinking that we need
and in our mouths water is wine
and everything is survivable
and everything will be fine.

drowned in lakes of frigid blue
borne aloft on clouds of smoke
thrown to wolves, eaten alive for being true
and the world itself is nothing but the butt of some great cosmic joke
and we spin
and we shine
and eventually we fall.

but ever i will rise to your call
with every encoded iota
every word branded into my soul
every life plan, every goal
every midnight scribbling
every
last
word
i am alive
i will survive
and i will find you 
after the last possible moment.

clockwork heart

everything whirs
    under the skin
      clockwork heart
         clockwork sin.

flesh fails
   flesh fails
     boils away with rage
        falls away with age
          and everything whirs away

engine
  an engine
     automaton
        automatic soul

      everything whirs
        tear the walls down
          behold my clockwork beauty
             don't listen

i always make such awful sounds

shiver

curl up
love without loss
furl
don't unfurl
this weather isn't safe
but you're a storm
and there's iron enough
in there
to make a man

Real Life Round-up: Things That I Have

There is a great storm taking place in my head and I simply refuse to take the time to write down all of the things that need to be said about it, but my god, if I don't write something down I think I'll burst from this damnable maelstrom, so I'll give it a go.

So! Dear god, how does one catalogue a life like this? I know I say this every time I go to set things down about what's going on. A day-to-day diary is too broad, but a post every few months is too little. I don't know. I suppose I'll just write things, shall I? Perhaps something of value will get written. I'm two paragraphs in and it hasn't happened yet. Alright, here goes.

So, I have depression.

No, that's a terrible place to start. I have a great deal of things. I have enough force of will to stop myself from smoking pot when it became too much of a burden. That sentence sounds like stupidity, but it got to the point where I was smoking about thirty dollars worth of pot a day, and with my slender frame and my tiny budget, that was destroying me. I just...went to a place where thoughts were slow and torpid and auxillery to the process of living, and that was alright for a while, but if you lived there you'd fade away to nothing, just fade away quietly and never be able to claw your way back. So I did that for a while, and then I stopped cold turkey. I am quite proud of myself for that.

I have a great deal of things. I have a girlfriend (of all things), and I am deeply, controllably in love. That sentence sounds like a fallacy, but I have learned over the past few months that love, like all emotions, does not need to dominate one totally in order to be experienced. Through hard work and perserverence I have created a relationship with an individual that does not hinge on mad passions and explosive interactions, that does not hinge on sexual back and forth or on jealousy and desire. I have a relationship with communication, a relationship with safety nets and comfort and romance and surprises and adoration and something private and wonderful that the rest of the world could never possibly understand and has no business trying to. Her name is Ruth. I am reminded every day that the piece of myself that she has been entrusted with is in the most suitable hands in the world. I strive every second of my life to be worthy of her, and if there comes a time when we split up, I will be grateful for every damn second that she gave me of herself. I do not think that will ever happen, though. This is unlike anything I have ever experienced, and it seems to be building itself to last. Every day, in every way, we get stronger and stronger. I love you, dear.

I have a great deal of things. I have two sisters and a brother back in Canberra who I am very proud of. My mother is a deeply disturbed woman who has taken to drunk driving and bouts of temporary insanity. She is not interested in a son who speaks his mind, nor is she interested in any discourse that causes her guilt, and so we no longer communicate. I am seperated from her by many kilometres, but my luckless siblings are younger and they have to continue to live with her. My sisters are very young, and my brother is a freshly minted adult, but they have the weight of experience behind them and they are strong, and fighting, and they will get there. All three of them love me and will forgive me my many mistakes, and for that I am very fucking thankful.

I have a great deal of things. I have a university degree that is nearly finished. I don't know exactly how I'm going to deal with that. University was always the goal, and now that goal is almost finished and the big bad world awaits. I am quite proud of myself for getting through university with the myriad of other things weighing down upon me, but I have been fortunate in that academic achievement seems to come easily to me. Words are easy, and my degree is nothing but words. Everything else is the hard part.

I have a great deal of things. I have an ex. I have a few of those, actually, but this one was the wake-up call I needed. I was dumped by a child, but a child I was convinced would love me despite my flaws. That experience has shown me that all flaws need to be worked on and that nothing is totally excusable. It has also shown me that no matter how good a judge of character you get, some people won't show their true colours until pressure is put upon them, and there is no use beating yourself up over it when they do, because slime is slime and will reveal itself in the long haul. All you can do is survive the experience, and that is what I intend on doing. I have been convinced of the futility of hatred, but the value of contempt has been demonstrated time and time again and I will stand by it when people earn it.

I have a great deal of things. I have lots of housemates that love me. I have a father who's making an effort. I have a very fat white cat who sasses the hell out of me. I have a kitchen full of food, a social landscape that I have been very careful to cultivate now that the weeds are out of it (and although I must be cautious, I must also allow people the chance to grow and change and return to me when they are safe), and a wonderful roleplaying circle that allows me to express myself creatively. I have a lot of books downloaded to my laptop and a World of Warcraft subscription (again). I have four thousand words to go until I'm finished with this semester and my holidays begin. I have a few shows that I'm going to audition for and hopefully a few theatre prospects that will keep my hands busy and my mind occupied. I have a boy that I am interested in, and a boy that I was interested in but still wouldn't mind kissing, and I have infinite patience for happiness, because I know that waiting changes all things.

And I also have depression. I've had it for over a year now, as a quick jaunt through my previous blog posts will reveal (and did reveal, to me). I have issues with substance abuse. I have sucidial thoughts, I have a great temptation to self-harm, I have nightmares, I have medication, and I have a great deal of randomized guilt and terror. What I also have is a great many things that help me get through my day, and a plan to conquer these negative emotions once and for all regardless of how much effort it takes, and I have an appointment with my GP on Thursday to talk about what can be done.

I have a great many things, really. Hopefully that's a bit enlightening for future me. Whew.

Climb

Haven't written in a while and soon there will be a big write-up on how I'm dealing with depression, but for now, a bit of late-night fluff.

Out here on the edge,
Dangling on the ledge.
There's not much room for moralizing.
And certainly none for exercizing
Anything but restraint.
The temptation is there
To sucumb to the taint.
Wake in the night
and cackle yourself to sleep
instead of counting sheep
and hope that your enemies take flight.

But that's no way to live.
That's a way to fall.
The temptation is there,
to throw it all away.
Laugh, and fall without a care.

But you can't.
It's an art.
Fingers are bloody
as you dig yourself in.
Turn your back on easy,
Turn your back on sin.
Grit your teeth,
swallow your pride -
and climb.

There are no edges.
There are no ledges.
There are no sickening drops.
There are only doors.
And gore-soaked floors.
And sometimes someone will call the cops.

Dance with fire,
Dodge the frost,
there is no way the game is lost
Just dig your fingers in,
Swallow your pride -
and climb.

Everything has locks.
Everyone is shocked.
You've got to let yourself be free.
You've got to forge yourself a key.
The world is full of soot and flame,
and nothing ever stays the same,
but everything has locks,
so just pull up your socks -
and climb.

Eggshell Thin

There once was a man -
Is, I suppose,
who had egg-shell thin bones.
No family, no home.
He travelled from place to place
In an egg-shell white cart
and wherever he went
he found somebody setting out
ready to start
on that grand road to adventure.

He'd paint you for tuppence,
(or, a piddling sum)
in stark and bold colours
you'd shine like the sun.

He never had the heart
to tell them.

To Do

Wake up,
groan,
shower,
stretches (no),
food (no).

Call her, call him, call them (all of them),
Get online.
Message her, message him.
Not-so-sweet nothings.

I don't want to be a freak show.
I don't want to be balanced
on this razor's edge
and then told
to back-flip.

Get seven pages of work done.
Seven pages.
Seven.
Spend time on Tumblr.
Write something.
Get seven pages of work done.

Whatever you want.

Eat something (no),
make sure the house is tidy.
Tidy house, tidy mind.
Clean.
Bare.
Raw.

Whatever you want.

Make a start on something.
If you can.
I know you're weak.
I thought ahead,
and you're a freak
so don't feel bad if you're not up to par.

Go for a walk (no),
maybe get some food (no),
the fish and chips place should be open.

You may have a joint after this point.
Things dissolve.
I dissolve.
Unfinished.
Unfocused.
But still here.

inch

everything is blue
and pale
and crisp
and cold.
Everything is fresh
and nothing is old
and time stretches into a dull thump
that disturbs frozen ground
not an inch.

you can measure out your life in internet torrents
everybody can
the signs of existence
breath
pulse
downloads.

once there were cats.
once there was fear.
once there was smoke
and haze
and the air was never clear
but now everything
is blue
and every part of you
stretched into frozen time
that disturbs dull ground
not an inch.

Damocles

Sealed lips.
A destroyed kiss.
Passion on the edge of a sword.

I am Damocles.
We're all Damocles.
The thread is cut every second of every day.
Here comes the drop.

Sealed lips,
A clenched fist.
Passion on the edge of the sword.