pleasure drives 90 down the highway

the wind in her hair and the top down

peace takes the long route home

doesn't mind the extra hour

pleasure makes the heart flutter

golden glamor, a flicker of light

peace holds her hand, squeezes

for reassurance and stillness

pleasure professes its love, loud

in public, down on one knee

it makes promises that it cannot keep

in the morning, pleasure leaves

it is a guest, a tourist at best

peace is quieter, it remembers

to skip the creaky steps in the stairs

to turn off the light in the hall

climbs into bed, warm against her

peace gets a good night's sleep

I used to have this recurring dream that I’m on the roof of a large building. It’s dark and gloomy, maybe a little rainy. I can see the silhouette of this girl sitting on the ledge very close to the edge of the building. I can hear her heavy breathing like she’s been crying.

I’m not sure if I should say something or if I should just walk away but as I am trying to make a decision I hear her crackling voice, “What do you want?” I really didn’t know what to say. So I’m polite, “Did you need some help?”.

“No, no one can help me.”, this small fragile voice says, “Why would you even care?”. She had a point, I didn’t know her. I couldn’t really even see her, “I could hear you crying and just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Then this mousy voice had the nerve to ask “Why?, What does it matter to you?”.

“Why are you even here?”. She was right but I felt like I couldn’t just leave, “You're right I don’t know you but I can see that maybe you need someone to talk to.”

She laughs, “Do you think I’m going to do something crazy?”. I look her way wanting to say “yes'' but I was afraid it would make the situation worse. “I’m not sure, but I do feel there was a reason why I came over”

I just stood there for a few minutes not sure what to say next but edging closer, ever so slowly so she wouldn’t notice. I can hear her little voice, “Do you think everyone has the right to be here?” I contemplate the words but I don’t know how to answer her.

She continues, “Do you think that everyone on Earth deserves to be here?” I can make out her silhouette as she continues,

“I try, I really do

But some days I just want

To lay down and close my

Eyes and drift off into nothing”

I can hear the shakiness in her voice, she’s holding back her tears, “I didn’t deserve what I got. At Least that’s what I tell myself. It was all a mistake, the wrong person.” Again she asks, “Do you think that everyone deserves a second chance?” I smile to myself and think now that is a question for the ages. I take a deep breath and say, “Let me tell you a story”.

There was this little girl. She lived a very unhappy childhood. Her father left when she was very young and then her mother remarried to a man that was not a good person. He did things that a father should never do to a child, even if he was a step parent but the physical pain was not what hurt her but the emotional. Because of the awful things that happened to her she grew up hating herself. Loathing the person she was. Every time she saw herself in the mirror it was just a reminder of how horrible of a human she thought she was. She spent years hiding herself from others as well as herself, believing she did not deserve to be happy. She even went as far as to remove as many mirrors as she could from her life so she could never see or be reminded of the person she knew she really was. She felt she deserved to be unhappy and alone.

I could tell this girl seemed interested in the story the further I went on. I could see her move closer to the roof top and further from the edge. “What happened to her”, the girl asked.

Finding this to be a good sign I continue, “She spent many years pretending that she was ok. The problem though, was that she never really dealt with her issues. She just buried them deep inside. Swallowing down all the bad things that happened to her until one day she just couldn’t take in any more. The crazy thing about holding on to things is at some point it all comes back up and resurfaces. And all those bad things from her past came back and in a flood and it felt like it happened just yesterday.

She finally had to admit that bad things happened to her and to accept that it wasn’t her fault. She was not to blame and as hard as it was she had to spend the next part of her life reminding herself of that and trying to just be happy. As I looked up I noticed that the girl had turned around and was sitting on the inside of the ledge. “But how was she able to move on?” the girl asked, “how could she live with everything that happened to her?”.

I seriously thought about the questions before I answered, “Truthfully, she forgave herself. She finally admitted that the person that was hardest on her was herself. She made herself feel ugly and unimportant. She realized that even though other people had hurt her, it was herself that allowed the hurt to continue and eat her up inside. She chose to feel unworthy and useless. When she truly accepted what happened and said it out loud into the universe, that was when she could feel herself healing and knew she could move forward. She saw the world in a whole new light.

I looked over at the silhouette and could feel a lightness in the air and it wasn’t as dark as before. The night was almost over. The girl slid down from the ledge and slowly walked over to me. She took my hand and gently rubbed it on her cheek, “I forgive you too and I have always loved you.” She moved into the light and shock spread across my face. It was me, younger, the forgotten child. Tears started rolling down my face. I embraced her saying I’m sorry, so sorry as she disappeared and I woke up.

Matters not to anyone but me. I expect no congrats for doing what I should have always done to begin with. But on a personal level I am proud of myself. Not that today marks 9 years clean 100% from a needle and drug addiction that claimed most of my life. My family. Years of my freedom. My mental health. My friendships and eventually led to my son's addiction and death. But that from my weakest moment in life. Alone in my corner. Eroded by drugs to the point I didn't remember who i really was anymore. From there, I picked a fight. I knew that i had everything i needed inside me to change it all if i could only find it

today i claim 9 years of victory. It's a pyrrhic victory. But a victory nonetheless. I've held on to life since birth I think. Somehow I feel selfish for it since I caused so much wake in my life. Now .. it's harder to hold on. It's hard to not be at the very least who I was last year but I'm not him anymore and I know it. I have no friends. I do imagine that's my fault also even if I'm not aware of how. Before i think I was too. . Me? Im not (me) anymore. I wish I had done so much differently. I've often caught myself saying that I want to go home. Now I have a family I've never had. But I'm aware always that it's borrowed. Should something happen to me and my wife my new family would sit on the other bleachers. I always wanted to believe that when I got clean I could change everything. I could steer my family in the right way. Work and have things. Become a friend. A Co worker. A fellow human that has been there and could go back in there to lead ppl out that can't find the way. I have no choice but to acknowledge that I failed as usual. I make no excuses for who I was or who I am. I realize that no matter what the weights made up of its still heavy. I've always meant well and wished for the ppl I loved to have better lives. Even those in my past. I've not been able to want bad to happen to ppl. I hope ppl can pardon me for who I was considering I'm no longer that person nor recognize him. And I hope those I've wronged can also. I'm not sure I deserve the laughs or smiles I catch myself giving. Always catch myself. Since they found my son dead almost 10 months ago now, I feel ashamed of these 9 years clean. I feel as if I've cheated death by quitting drugs. If I hadn't stopped i may have had a year or 2. But I feel as tho I'm in a final destination movie and I am past my exp. Date and I was never meant to see what I've seen these past 10 months, which wouldn't be proper if I left out my brother blew his brains out 2 months ago now and for reasons I may have fought you over had it not been proven at moment of hearing it. I'm mental. I know it. I feel it somehow but I just can't seem to focus on it. I assume it's OK. Que Sera, Sera I have more urge. Not any urge specific. Just no urge. Where I'm at mentally I don't know. But I hope peace finds me no matter where I am.

Sisyphus had to face eternal torment. His toil required so much more exertion. But his true happiness came from the meaninglessness of his actions. It is that to which we relate. The movie I watched today. The books I read. The time I spend with temporary people. It's all going to end. I will know the grave. And for all my misery, I'm surprisingly optimistic. Maybe the loneliness of the grave will not hurt as much. To be lonely among the ones you're meant to love, that is true hell.

We're all men doomed to drive boulders up a hill. And the greatest comedy of it all is, we chose those boulders when we didn't really need to. It makes me laugh when I realize it. We chose to drive boulders uphill because we love it. We love to suffer. When all we could do is nothing but the mere minimum. Do what is commanded and die. We'll be rewarded with glorious eternity. We can do all we desire beyond the grave.

I struggle to articulate it, but I want to be able to say it. What I mean is, death makes null all those boulders we so fruitlessly push uphill. Rather than preach life and living to the extreme, we should preach the lessons of the dead and the dying. We should teach one to die as one desires.

A good life is one spent preparing for a good death.

In the dilemma of bliss and suffering imposed on humanity, I choose finite suffering over finite bliss. Such is the evil of fleeting joys that it takes from us the death all men deserve. It entraps us in its boulders and hills. And it's falsehoods and dreams.

I'd be willing to trade temporary happiness for the expectation of reward any day. To see what awaits me when I am at the top of the hill does not matter. What we imagine awaiting us is so much more beautiful than reality can ever be.

I believe the real key to this problem is to realize that it's no problem at all. Stop searching. Peace will come. Pleasure will come. They will both leave you in their own time as well. Because they are both part and parcel to human existence. As is suffering and happiness and despair and joy and anger and sorrow and love and forgiveness. When an emotion hits us, it's easy to feel as though "this feeling" will last forever. It will not. Nothing does. Acknowledge it, savor it even, if it's positive, but understand that all of these emotional states are ephemeral and fleeting. Based on momentary situational circumstances and brain chemistry. Acknowledge, but with the understanding that before long this feeling's opposite will be your companion. It's all temporary. In the end we die and we should count ourselves lucky to have been aware of any pleasure or peace. Or even pain for that matter. Stop searching and let them all come and go as they will.

I used to sit in my cell and dream of pleasure. The foods I would eat. The movies I would watch. The shampoo I would buy. It's been nearly three years now since I walked out and I realize pleasure is no longer what I yearn for.

I just want peace. I want to be okay with myself. I want take an eraser and blot out my past. To hit the delete button and rewrite my story. I want to start at the moment I pick up the knife and make a different choice.

There's no going back when you take someone's life. It's never not there. I always live with it. His ghost sits on my shoulder and reminds me constantly of what I am. They say "We are not our choices." But what else are we.

I can't be anything else. I sit on a pile of excuses and justifications so that I can find air to breathe. Everyone says he deserved it. They tell me they would have done the same thing. But no one should be allowed to choose if someone dies.

I can't be at peace. Not when he sits here and reminds me with bits of memory that I am the reason he can no longer create memories of his own. I want to find peace and believe I made the only choice I could make. That peace would bring me pleasure. But I know the peace will never come.

Peace is a beautiful word. It takes me to a place where there is no strife or stress between countries, families, or strangers passing by one another on the street. No battles that can weave their way into our hearts and minds. For when it is all said and done, we find that in every tragedy and travesty we lose another piece of our peace. Our connection to self, connection to others and that which in today's ways and means gives us instant connectivity to strangers the world over. I've seen too many images of Mothers and Fathers weeping for sons and daughters lost on the battlefields, highways and sidewalks of our broken country and beyond. Chalk outlines of a life that once was, left to be washed away by rains that eventually must fall.

Have you ever taken something out of a box and looked at the lengthy directions and decided you would be able to put it together without following them...after all how complex could it be? You may succeed only to find that they have generously given you a few extra screws and bolts....it looks good - looks just like the image on the box but when put it to use it crumbles....We have the directions to life, and we think in our simple ways and whys we can do it just fine...only to find ourselves in one hot mess after the other...as it crumbles before us we have that feeling that there too are a few lost screws and bolts...

When one passes people express, "well at least he/she is at peace". I believe it to be so - I just believe we should have the pleasure of peace as we walk through some of our days for I know that nothing is perfect or permanent. I'm just searching for peace, for with it pleasure surely comes.

Give me the flames

Give me the fire

Give me the Lust

Soaked with Desire.

Give me the thrill

Scare me if you will

I have no fear

I'll laugh you into my pyre.

I have no doubt

That my dragon will be running

I have no qualms

That the distance from me to death

I am stunting.

Give me passion

Give me pain

Just don't threaten me

With a Life mundane.

Pleasure is dangerous

Never a peaceful slumber.

I fight to stay awake.

where all

are shaken

till level

even,

I receive

unleavened

pleasure

of living,

for peace

even,

I do

not look,

this way

nor that

trying

to stay on

the path

of under-

standing

even,

when

I am on

the head

of the pin,

we'll only

hear the

needle,

screaming

08.10.2023

Existential pain challenge @Raynstar

I don’t think that pleasure is anywhere near possible without peace. When life is hectic and peace is absent, nothing enjoyable. That’s because our brain is always worrying about the next thing that it needs to get done. We are not able to stop, slow down, take a look around and feel pleasure in the things that are right in front of us. We tend to overlook the things that let us have pleasure or push them to the side because the stressful things need to be put to rest first. I am looking for peace at the moment, because living in peace allows us to find the extra bonus that we call pleasure.