Coming to Terms?

Soundtrack to this Post: Sleeping with Ghosts by Placebo

REAL QUICK: did anyone notice how bitch-ified the male characters were in the Super Bowl Ad's? the Khaki "who's wearing the pants" commercial...and the one with the guys talking about how shitty their lives are....and that somehow buying a Dodge will offset a shitty to do list life?



There was a time when I wantonly made decisions and followed impulse. I shied away from viewing the aftermath of my choices. I anesthetized myself with booze and made many decisions over the past several years. That's not entirely accurate. I've made plenty of selfish decisions without the aid of booze.

I find less reprieve in booze than I once did. I find less enjoyment as well. I find no purpose. I hit the bottom of that pursuit. I've hit the bottom of many things as of late. My fight's coming up. I know that win or lose, in the aftermath....I will find release...I will find peace. I will find solace.
There will be a moment. I will sit alone in a folding chair backstage. Hundreds will sit nearby, no doubt some of them discussing what they just saw. Friends and even family will feel proud. I will feel no pain save the crash from chemicals no longer pulsing through my body. A bitter, pained smile will cross my face and I will tell myself that I "won".....but I will know that it is as hollow a victory as I am a person. For I will be unchanged in my chasing a state which I do not believe I will attain.

That moment....that moment focused on my victory will pass. I will sit at square one. I will sit with all the demons around the campfire and they will begin telling stories. The same stories with the same endings. The same stories with similar if not the same characters.

I will feel as alone as always. I will rise and bask in the congratulations and applause. This will lessen the discontent for a time. I will enjoy a few drinks, exhaustion will overtake, I will sleep. I will awaken and for much of the day feel sated.

In a few days time....the chasing of the dragon will begin again.

My white whale.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

As it is...each day spent breathing remains in vain pursuit of my white whale.......peace.
My core belief that all things crumble with time makes this a curious attempt.
Let's hope that I am misinformed and permanence in more than a singular moment proves possible.
-With Greatest Affection


Ahab: "Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."