Leave it to dad. He up and dies instead of sticking around long enough to accept responsibility for his part in contributing to the complete destruction of this family. Good old dad He always knew when it was time to bail.
This has been an impossible endeavor for me to undertake. I will be sailing along thinking that the story is telling itself and will then find myself in a mire of confusion, sickness and disease.
Of course my story has become some kind of horror story in it's on right. The last seven years has been an absolutely amazing, dangerous and frightening experience. I keep starting over hoping that this time the story will actually build into something that is significant and important for anyone choosing to read this.
I guess the way to deal with this is to look at the last three months. I left Heartland of Victorian Village and found myself in my own apartment for the first time in a long while.
A group of gung ho happy handicaps convinced me that I was ready to be on my own. Of course we have found out that this just isn't the case. I am a long ways away from thinking that I can function on my own on a physical, emotional, mental health level. Hell in a matter of weeks, two months I have broken a hip and now have broken my left leg in two places. On top of these occurrences are the times that I fell out of bed and blacked my eye and cut open my cheek. There is also the scalding water that I spilled on my left hand that is still slowly healing. All of this in a very short period of time. It all scares the shit out of me right now.
Sleep for the next few days will only happen when exhaustion is all there is.
There won't be any naps or luxury sleep overs. Few hours here and a few hours there is all I have to look forward to. The rest of the time will be spent on wild narcotic dreams and trouble breathing.
I keep thinking the only thing left is something to happen to my heart and that just isn't so. There are a whole lot of tings that could still go wrong. I find myself feeling sick to my stomach and I feel self destructive. It's a terrible cycle of winds to be caught up in. What am I gonna do?
I guess the question that must be asked, the topic that must be raised is who really is in charge of this fruit stand and what the hell is the true purpose?
How do we leave these creatures of God, well so harmless when the last thing they are is harmless. We are a devious race of ruthless creatures that are just waiting for the correct and precise moment to strike. Hell if there is one ting that we are gifted at it's killing each other. Why, no one knows.
We will never achieve consciousness until such a time comes that we realize that the destruction of each living thing under the terms that we allow this to happen has been run through the filters and an awareness is achieved. Life is precious. Be that human life or the life of a trout.
A good hunter was my dad and he was a good hunter because he did not value his on life anymore than he did the rabbit or squirrel that he was hunting or the turtle that he was trapping.
Dad had the will of a lamb to live. Hell a lamb, sheep will fall over dead from not moving enough in a field. Even tough dad exhibited great struggle and heroism what it was hiding was his complete lack of will to live
And of course my father was an alcoholic which is a slow desperate way to die. I was a drug addict, wanted to go out in the blaze of fire. Dad wanted us all to go out together where I would have been quite satisfied going out alone in the darkness of three in the morning in a strangers bed.
For now in my life this is the last of the things that happen to A free mad because as of tomorrow I am no longer a free man and I am almost eighty percent convinced that being a free man is what has been killing me me for the last fifty years of my existence here on this earth. I figure ten years of it has been perfection with five of those years being spent with my first wife and daughter.
Annie and Aardvark showed up in my dreams last night again. Whenever they both show up or one at a time I am in for a treat of dreaming so intensely that it is more real life than waking life could ever be. Generally it is a segment of my past or my parents past. I mean when you think about it the only past that is of any value to me is the past of myself or of those that I am linked to their past which opens up a vast river of information fractured like glass with tributaries all through the expanse of the breakage.
What has become clear is that this life has continued on and is showing no signs of slowing down any time soon. There are some very real adjustments about to take place but these additions of change will only lengthen the span of the journey.
Healing is a primary motivation on this next leg of the trip and not just a sense of feeling better and getting on with life. This is instead a deep healing of the heart, mind, spirit and soul and getting on with a new healed life that has never been lived before. This is the moving of the stone door and the resurrection of thy self coming into the new sunlight leaving the dark cold soaked stench of a dying behind.
What would have been under the assumption of limitations will simply be the rewriting of the rules and principles that render an existence into action. What we thought of as standards are those areas of reconstruction of existence. It is time for the Mike of the past to really become the Mical of the now and the Cheeseman to finally become Peace. The Mike Cheeseman of the yesterday has simply and gracefully moved into the Mical Peace of the now. The Tom and Betty of parents from the past have served their duties and left the four boys of their spittle and fluids to venture into this universe of change and to become the moving atomic speed of change.
Sunflower is as she has always been the soul child born from the children of Mike and Maggie and Wyeth the grandson seer shall tell his story of how this life was left to him.
Yep dad's legacy is that of beer soaked summer vacations and the twilight years being soaked and cut short from the disease of the mind.
My mother still lives her life into the eighties. She is merely catching up the lost time it took to raise four boys and a husband.
I am growth,
you are loss
as you are searching
as you are truth. Let the remainder of this trip continue.
cool peace
hippy mical peace
love
spirit
cool uber groovy cool