Jesus Christ! Reading the news anymore is just depressing. There is nothing but struggle going on between God knows who and what and the skies are apparently falling on us. I find it all to be nothing but distractions to what is really important and that is spending my time enjoying life; close your eyes and breathe deep Damnit. My roommate is back. So much for breathing deep.
I always get a little worried when he starts shouting “I am Jesus!” and then I hear him filling his urinal immediately after. I’m not sure if it’s the “I am Jesus” that bothers me or if it’s that he is pissing in a urinal immediately after.
The little Middle Eastern woman is chanting and screaming again. Not one word of English. She seems to be in so much pain and insanity.
Maybe it’s in the air or something. People just seem to be on the verge, standing on the edge and even going over.
Memories keep flooding in from a time when I first worked at Scotts in Marysville. I was working a full day and coming home and spending wonderful times with my wife and daughter, hell even my mother-in-law and I were getting along. I was the happiest I have ever been in my life.
I don’t remember the day that the rage began.
It wasn’t a rage against my family. Well not my immediate family. My wife, my daughter and even my mother-in-law who lived with us. This family was the glue that held me together. It was a rage against the normal, against turning out like my father in some ways. It was a rage against that family. The real family. The truth is I was already doing better than dad ever did.
It wasn’t when I started smoking pot. Pot was the savior in my life. It made me feel normal.
Second shift was perfect. I would come home and get cleaned up and Maggie and I would lay on the bed with sunflower and watch David Letterman and late TV till two in the morning. We would all get up early and have breakfast and go about our day.
I remember Maggie sobbing the night I went to third and going to third may have been the beginning of the rage. I truly was my father now.
I smoked a lot of weed but it still wasn’t the enemy, no the culprits were all the new drugs I was introduced to. I was learning how to snort coke an eat mescaline and LSD. I learned that various kinds of speed would allow me to stay up for days on end and still function and then I finally was introduced to Mescaline and ah yes, this was the one. This was the drug that tore open the doors and let the rage run free. I loved and hated snorting meth.
I hated the life I had at Scotts. It was taking away the life I had with my family, my perfect life.
I hated being like my father in so many ways.
In the beginning the rage was fury and I was set free to explode with insane energy and the people around me were afraid of my energy so they let me be. I would come down on the way home, fall into a death sleep, wake up and spend time with my beloved family.
I don’t know what day it was that the rage turned itself on me and I was no longer in control. I ranted and raved and yelled and screamed but no one listened. I huffed and puffed and I roamed the yard all night not able to have a normal night’s sleep and my wife cried and wondered why.
I finally started overdosing frequently on meth and speed and the rage was out of control.
I lost the family, the glue, the foundation. I lost the only thing that I had in my life that would have saved my life. I was alone. I was frightened and I was desperate. I was an animal caged, hungry and mad with desire.
The next ten years are a blur, sort of.
After a few hours of all of these memories I find myself sitting outside in my wheelchair feeling very, very sad. Those days will never be here again and the days that are unfolding now don’t seem to be as powerful as those that are long gone now.
These days should feel like days of awakening and healing but they just don’t. I know most of it is my own perception of what is my life right now. I have a very tilted view of what is living and what is incarceration. This isn’t the first time I have found myself in a place that I didn’t want to be in and could not find a way out.
My goofy roommate and I are talking about how wonderful it is to have a big fat joint and a couple bottles of wine and to be sitting somewhere watching the neighborhood animals fuck. Well actually you may be watching a sunset or sunrise or just looking at dirt but whatever you are staring at this is the best buzz in the world.
I used to get home on a Friday, lock all my doors, chill four bottles of medium priced win, get my bag and bowel and start indulging. Man it was a wonderful weekend if no one bothered me the whole time. For those of you wanting to try this. Make sure the wine is around $22.95 a bottle. Australian is good as is Hungarian. The Hungarian you can go a little cheaper and still get a good wine for just drinking one right after the other glassful. The food should be something simple like smoked oysters, sardines, other forms of small fish with various types of cheese and various kinds of crackers. You could also turn it up a notch and go to Kroger and get some Sushi for the whole weekend. May cost a little bit more but it will be well worth it.
So it continues doesn’t it? One days folds into another day as I continue this journey to wellness and I am beginning to understand that there really is a method to the madness. I still have a way to go, not a long way but a way. A couple more months should get me right in the head which is the most important part of all of this. Physically I am doing very well, well as good as you can do with the various setbacks that I have endured and the fallout from them. I’m a fucking miracle Jughead.
Mentally I need some work. I need to practice living a more responsible life that is also exciting and fun. I need to take my damn medicine when I am supposed to and also stay educated on what I am taking so I can ask the questions that need to be ask like, “Why in the Sam hell am I taking this?”
It is important for my dear brother and my daughter to be comfortable with my movement forward and to feel that I am going to be safe. The biggest obstacle I will run into is myself.
To become truly spiritual in this world isn’t as easy as all the wanna-be guru’s make it sound. It’s damn hard to stay spiritual in the world that we live in today. There are just so many distractions.
It’s easy to logically understand the whole idea of consciousness, the one the all and staying in the now. It’s relatively easy to feel that connection to everything. What is not easy is continuing to feel that connection and to be able to move within your current constraints and give this spiritual beauty to others because the simple truth is spiritual awakenings don’t happen to those who don’t want to share what they have found. It only works when we are all there, when we are all sharing and when we are all open to this magical journey.
cool peace
hippy mike
love
spirit
groovy times