Ep. 10 How to let go and light the pyre
Dear Ana,
A year went by with me trying to decipher a broken mind and a wicked sense of humor; Seven months of agony while I bitched about a pile of dead feathers and a man that, for a short while, Brook knew as her uncle.
And I spent a couple months with… with mourning January 22 1908, the queen that got away.
My days have have been pulled apart by resentment and regrets, questions about right and wrong, the hurt feelings of a boy that can’t move on.
You spend your days in relative silence, Ana. Your modus operandi has always been a soft smile to hide the storm. Nobody ever really knew what you were going through since it’s hard to see past the kind words and calm demeanor. A battle fought under the moonlight of your psyche. You’d be there with us, drinking your coffee and dragging on your cigarette, but the moment wasn’t there with you, it couldn’t reach you, not really.
Me? Fuck that silent shit. I’ve always been the kind to bitch and moan until there was nobody left to bitch and moan to. You lock everything up, not a glimpse of it for anybody, turning yourself into a ghost through derealization. But me? I just vomit out all my regrets and dissatisfaction. They are plastered on my presence, I drag them with me everywhere I go, performing a grotesque “show and tell” that leaves people scratching their head, squirming in discomfort.
Let’s call it like it is: For most of my life I’ve lived in the past. Unless you stuck a popsicle up the euphoric cunt of Molly, to then hand it to me to lick in front of a sound system, there was no way I could enjoy a moment. Even when God blessed me with an instance of intense joy, I would corrupt it by feeling it through the touch of the past.
I’ve lost so much in my life… Jobs, careers, opportunities; Family, friends, lovers; Love, joy, peace; My principles and my mind… But I didn’t have the strength to build the funeral pyre. I didn’t have it in me to light the fire which would set all of us free.
Gengis Khan would piss himself at the sight of the army of corpses I drag behind me but, to be fair, he was probably riddled by chlamydia so both of us would be hurting. And that hurt is what’s holding us all in limbo.
Let’s not pretend that any of these cold bodies can be reanimated, let’s not kid ourselves into playing Jesus, there are no miracles to be had here. The past has it’s grip on my fucking neck, that much is certain, but there is no way I can reach back and change any of this. Let’s not pretend that any of this can be saved, let’s not fucking force the flow of life but move with the current.
That’s how I’ve been spending my last few weeks. Moving with the current, sniffing out the winds of change and adjusting my sails instead of pouring more gasoline into the engine.
Listen, I’m broke and mostly alone, same as you… But I’ve been waking up these days with a question: What is there that I can do, today, to bring even a hint of joy or positivity to my broken mind? And I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t take much, it never did. But I’ve always been so caught up in the past that I could not enjoy my present. Everything seemed trivial and pointless. There was no sun, there was no light or a brisk peaceful walk because, in my head, I’d be going over the same shit over and over again.
This is what I learned, Ana: It’s not enough for us to put our bodies into the present. Mind and soul has to be there, inhaling the present. Enjoy that sip of beer, let your mind taste it; Enjoy the sun on your face let your soul soak it all up; Welcome the music and let the sound of each instrument seep into you. Stop rolling these moments to the soundtrack of the past. Be in the fucking moment, don’t do one thing while your heart is somewhere else.
And these moments are in abundance… Life is brimming with them, we just have to shift our gaze from the “then” to the “now”. Find them, cherish them and let them heal you. Spend enough days, enough weeks and months, like this, and you’ll find that the rattling of chains has gone silent.
I’m slowly getting to where I need to be, to what I need to be. I’m not completely healed, obviously, but … But right now? I’m busy chasing the sun. My days have been pulled apart by resentment and regrets, questions about right and wrong, the hurt feelings of a boy that can’t move on. But I’ve reached out and pulled light through the clouds, used the beams to stich everything back together, wrapped it up in a summer breeze and pinned a careless smile on it. We need to live our lives, Ana. Whatever the future brings, let us greet it with love and compassion. I’ve no idea what’s in store for the two of us, but I do know that this existence we walk is such a fragile thing, the illusion of happiness so fickle… This whole ride could crash at a moment’s notice, we can’t afford to stumble on in the dark of the past, Ana.
Light that torch and toss it up on there, long past the time we shoulda’ let some of these ghosts go.
