Feel

I remember it like a vivid picture painted or a scene replayed from a movie embedded in the memory, that still life moment.

I was cruising at or about 70, I might have been reminiscent about the events that had transpired earlier that day.

I couldn’t have begun to fathom that I’d soon be traumatized in tandem not so much about that instant.

But everything few and far in- between, before and after since the whole damn thing happened.

In part, I was mostly affected that day, as I saw the possibility of being dearly departed very nearly imparted if not by happenstance than perhaps something more important.

Though I doubt it, although I’d like to have forgotten it I could have sworn I saw and stared into Death’s face that day.

Mortality, is never really all that scary as an abstract reality, but when presented like just maybe it gets heavy real quickly.

Pause- listen when you lived in one of those impossible to describe when a millionth of second seems like an eternity moments- trust you understand PTSD.

You’re not really impacted by an accident or injury per se but the actualities of what could have been more than just a maybe if this or that hadn’t gone just this certain set path way.

Haunted by what did or didn’t happen, like when I slammed on the brakes thinking this is it, the end.

Having had that forever split second to recognize I had cars on both sides veering for an out in any lane, steering not to flip out instantaneously, sneering at the outcome unraveling before me, I unnervingly accepted whatever fate at that second.

Literally, a game of chicken whether or not coerced and forced into a box of acceptance regardless of pride or substance.

The grand humility of life or death that it really is no different than a game of chance like poker card shuffling and playing or dice rolling double-sixes on a crapshoot table.

The fact is reality is no fable, no guarantee that tomorrow will be here good, bad or ugly there is no equalizer naughty or nice it comes down indiscriminately.

But when the end do come and it will, I guess the trick is determining what score you’d like to be have lived by toward attributing fulfillment.

I think on friends and family gone and passed and what they’d say on conversation if I could ask in an interchangeable discourse.

I find myself here bare in thought and soul wondering really what it is all about and it’s worth in the grand determinabtle steadiness of the course.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready but if and when I were to meet again that pale horse, I’d like to have the honor of not being a coward more like a force with sword in hand looking foward.

By Edwin “DV8NT” Narvaez