Beginnings and Ends

[Originally composed 9/12/07 09:58 am]

On a chilly October morning with flushed cheeks and a cold nose, I lowered the stitched, flower-printed suitcase into the trunk of my car. It looked like it had come from some second-hand store, and as if it was made out of a cheap, second-hand couch. It was an ugly suitcase. The sky was an overcast gray, and there was frost on my windshield when I started the car. I rolled slowly out of the long, winding driveway, pulled onto the dirt road surrounded by barren cornfields, and adjusted my rear view mirror.

Even on such a gloomy day, she was wearing dark, oil-spill sunglasses and wearing blood red lipstick that stained her cigarette with a crimson melancholy pucker. She stared off into the distance, looking at nothing, because that's what surrounded the tiny car in the middle of these vast, boundless acres. She was wearing almost all black, and if I didn't know any better, I'd think she was on her way to her husband's funeral.

It was a long trip to the city, and an even longer trip to the train station. For hours she stared out that window, unknowing that I was watching her from my rearview mirror. From time to time, a lone tear would roll down her cheek like a raindrop on a wet window, and she would blot it up with a piece of white tissue, now stained marble from the mascara. Two hours of silence. Neither of us were speaking, because we'd already said all that there was to say. Still, I was dying to know if the silence was crushing her as bad as it was crushing me. As we entered the edge of the city, I spoke.

"Say something." She remained motionless, still gazing out the window in the same, sullen slouch.
"There are so many smokestacks." And they were all pouring black smoke. Reaching sky high for what seemed like miles around us, they were large fingers protruding from the cold ground that would claw everything in their grip and pull them to the center of the Earth. Swallowed whole with no evidence left behind. And that was all she said to me before I dropped her off for the train due West. I never saw her eyes again, for she never removed her sunglasses. I used to get lost in them, but as of today they would be forever pointed Westbound.

On the Road Again Pt. III

Here we go again. It's time to pack up and move on to the next destination. I decided in July of this year (2011) that I would be moving back to Michigan, and that time has finally come.

A trek that will eventually have taken me nearly 5,000 miles, three states, and seven years to complete. From Detroit, Michigan to Phoenix, Arizona, to Orange County, California, and all the way back again. In each case, it was relatively easy to jump ship and try something else due to turmoil with a combination of jobs, bands, relationships, friendships, and family. I was always conscious of the fact that I could possibly be running from my problems, and for a while I was. Maybe I still am. But most importantly, I never denied what I felt in my heart, and I've always accepted the choices that I've made. I shall continue to do so.

I often remind others that "I never wanted to leave Michigan in the first place," but I'm glad that I did for several reasons; I've learned so much about myself, about the different regional cultures that exist in America, about the people that are (or once were) in my life, and most of all, how to appreciate what I have despite the notion of what else might be out there for me. I think that's something that most people can relate to.

Without this experience, I might have one day wondered "what if" I had moved away and started fresh in a place where nobody knew my name. I had the chance and I took it, because let's face it; most people can't just pick up and move hundreds or thousands of miles away and try something else. It takes a huge amount of guts and determination to do so, and even more strength to commit to such a big change. I knew that it would be difficult or maybe even impossible, but whether I lasted a year or a decade, I could one day come back home and know that at least I tried. Looking back on it now, I was never fully convinced that I could totally reinvent myself somewhere else and have a life better than the one that I had- but I never would have known without trying. I'm glad that I did.

Sometimes I wonder when this ride will slow down and stop- but I've known for a long, long time that it never does. While some may see this as disheartening, I see it as the next chapter in the adventure that is life. This is me turning the page.

Confession

I kind of let depression and alcohol take the wheel for a while. For the most part, those days are over. The key to the puzzle is that I must remain confident and positive, which often times contradicts my inner modesty. At the end of the day, I know that as long as I be myself and have good intentions, good things will come to me. I'm lucky enough to have a lot of good people in my life, and without them, I wouldn't be where I am today.

Here We Are Again.

I see you. But do you see me?

I used to care about that, but things are different now. I understand that we all see what we see from our current vantage points. Like snipers, we move from place to place, because we are fixated on our targets, yet we don't want to be caught.

But for fuck's sake, I ain't trying to shoot you. I just feel like you're trying to shoot me first. You want to put a gun in my face and make me spill my guts, tell you the truth. As I stare down your barrel, I must somehow convince you that the truth now is the same as it has always been.

Paradoxes upon paradoxes.

Loops upon loops.

I see you. But do you see me?

Deus Ex Machina, Pt. II

Through louvered windows, I see the lives of others, as others see my life.
The individual adjusts the pitch accordingly.

I have always had a large elliptical orbit between my sense of self and my meaning with the people around me. I guess that makes me human. Some humans are more human than others.

As my ellipse grows more and more oblong from my home planet, I spend more time away. Eventually gravity will slingshot me to another time, another place. I wish it weren't that way, but I cannot fight the forces of nature. In each last pass of said home planet, it becomes more somber; more bittersweet. For one day I shall never see you again.

With arms outstretched upon my departure, I wish not to leave, but if I must; please remember the words I left behind.

Coming Home

In July of 2005 I moved away from my home state of Michigan. There were a lot of reasons, but if there were a central theme, it would be personal growth on several facets. Part of me wanted to get away, part of me knew that separation and supreme challenge would help me grow into a better man.

Six years later, I'm ready to return home.

When I was younger, I would become easily frustrated with the challenges of life, as well as the challenges of understanding others and how to communicate with them. I thought that isolation would temper my soul and help make me more of a man, and to a degree, it has. Although I have not been completely isolated, being very far from your history will cause you to modify your perceptions of where you belong and who is important to you.

The main lesson that I've learned is that I alone cannot conquer life and get whatever the hell I want. I require the good, strong souls of those around me, because it helps make me who I am. That's partly because I don't feel like myself if I can't do the same in return. Had I cultivated a new existence out West, I could justify staying here. But seeing old friends and family reminds me that my heart never really left Michigan. And I have no shame in saying that nice weather isn't enough to keep me from that.

Levels

Level I: Childhood
Level II: Chaos
Level III: Confusion
Level IV: Acceptance
Level V: Anger
Level VI: Catharsis
Level VII: Refusal
Level VIII: Relocation
Level IX: Shedding
Level X: Repairing
Level XI: Loss
Level XII: Contemplation
Level XIII: Level 13.