Monday, July 08, 2013


I woke up again today with a mouth full of blood and a tongue that is still numb, a dozen hours after I found it between my teeth. This is happening with increasing frequency, which helps explain why I'm not a big fan of sleep. I'm mad this is happening, mad and a little scared; I have no idea what I'm doing when I'm unconscious. No one does. I am alone.

As I face the clear light and fully accept the journey ahead, I briefly struggle with what I could have done to stop all of this from happening. The answer is probably nothing. An adult life spent pushing the edges of the envelope, a conscious choice to live and play hard, a determined mindset to be selfish —yeah, I did it. I own it. I always knew it would come to this. I accept the consequences.

My few remaining friends should not have to, however, and this is why I've pushed almost all of them outside the gates. I miss them but I'm glad they're at a distance. It's like that footage of the San Francisco plane crash: best to see it from afar. Any closer and it gets a little too personal. I'm sad they're gone. I'm glad they're gone. We're both better off.

My laundry is almost done. Clean inside, clean outside. Of all the emotions I feel tonight, I am not afraid.

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