I have not written much of anything lately. It is not that I don't want to, because my thoughts are overflowing. I have had hundreds of songs, poems, stories and rants splashing around in here. I think I am scared to write. Why? It is because I am lost and oh so sad. When I compose something I let it all out, all of it...... and that scares me. There is much I am hiding from these days. Always trying to keep that one step between us, one step ahead. No matter how fast I run, he is right behind me. Constantly breathing down my neck like some angry god, waiting for me to stumble so he can strike me down. I have an enemy I am not sure I can defeat this time, because the enemy is in me. When I look in the mirror I see his face.... and I feel paralyzed.
Since my mother passed away last year, it is getting harder and harder to sleep, or to relax in general. I drink at night, then I drink more, but it does not even seem to effect me anymore. I keep having visions of her every time I close my eyes. I see her when my mind starts drifting away in boredom. I sometimes see her while I am standing in line at the store waiting to check out. They are not good visions either. She is withering away with decay and reeks of death. Her eyes are black and hollow. She holds out her hand toward me and shrieks "JIMMY" as only a mother can. It makes all the hair on my body stand up and cold chills run up and down.... I am paralyzed.
My wife asked me one day "Do you think it is better that you were with her when she died, or would it have been better if you were not there?" I have though about the answer for days. I truly think it was better that I was with her when she passed. Watching her slowly stop breathing, and I felt the energy leave her body. I was good energy, warm and gentle. I think she can finally be at peace with all the things that bothered her so much in this temporary existence. She had a very loving spirit, even though it was shrouded in the darkness of alcoholism.
I felt helpless at that moment, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't DO anything... I just stood there, paralyzed. I still feel like I should have done something, anything. Grabbed her, hugged her, held her hand, FUCKING SCREAMED. Something, but I couldn't... It was hard enough for me to breathe. I know she was no longer there, anyway. She was too old to change, but too young to die.
It is times like these I kick myself for having strong beliefs. Times like these when nothing makes sense. I actually wish I could temporarily latch on to one of the many fake deities. I would like to say "Jesus, just tell me why you took some of my closest friends when they were so young. Why did you take both my grandfathers before I even had a chance to meet them? Why did you take both of my grandmothers when they still had so much to share with us? Why would you let friends and friends children commit suicide? Why did you take my mother from me when I was trying so hard to make our relationship better? Why do you take all those children from their families? Above all, why do we have to suffer so much with physical and mental pain?" I wonder if he would tell me what I hear all the time. "It was their time to come to heaven and be with god and their families."
No, he wouldn't tell me anything, because I do not beLIEve in him. My mother did not either. She was a scientist at heart, and I am as well. My thoughts are everywhere and I can't keep them straight. This is my closing thoughts my ADD kicks in. If I did beLIEve in the Bible and Jesus: I would have to beLIEve that this malevolent, righteous, loving and fair God wanted those innocent children killed at that school. He wanted those survivors to watch their friends get shot to death by a maniac, and die in a horribly painful way. He wanted those teachers to die as they listened to their students last cries and screams. This is what I am always told by the really religious folks around here. God has a purpose for everyone, he leads us in everything we do, he always has a plan, you just have to pray to him and he will guide you. That is NOT a God I can believe in, nor could my mother. I think I have traded my sadness for anger. Oh look..... a butterfly.....