The hiatus ends now. It has to be like pulling off a bandage. I won’t go into all of the failed attempts up to now. I’ll just march forward, as I did the first time.
The time has passed between the last update and what a long bit of time that has seemed to be. Then again, here is this moment and it only looks like a few short leaps away from where I started. Then again, I suppose that depends on your definition of leaps, and how far you’re willing to look back.
Jump a year back, you have one thing. Jump two, something else. Jump back three, holy shit. Four, what the fuck? Five? Ten? Fifteen? Though I suppose that is my limit, for now.
It’s strange how that works though. I used to think, and maybe you did too, that when I would be the age that I am now that all of my issues would be dissolved away and there I would sit, on my pinnacle of pride and success, gleaming down upon the life I have led. I always thought I would have everything all figured out. And I really banked on how cool I’d be.
From where it stands now, I would never claim that to be the case. Listen to the quake of my trembling knees as I stare down this slipping world, with the rope of promises tied around my waist. The dirt around my feet caves in as the weight grows and grows and my resistance seems more and more strained. Me, and my full time job, sinking to the bottom of this ocean called society. My dreams slipping like bubbles from my mouth as the mounting pressure collapses my skull.
They say drowning is a peaceful way to die. They would most likely be the kids I went to Junior High with. Hell of a lot they know. Who has ever had the chance to explain the sensation of drowning after the fact? After all, facts are hard. As is breathing underwater.
But I’m lying to you, or at least not telling the truth. For you see, my imagination as a lad could have never created the fantastic spectacle that has been my life. For all its ups, downs, lefts, diagonals and loops were, and are all, I have. I’m a creature of linear time, and I feast on beginnings and endings, despite pretty much everything in existence lying in the space between those two. Where tomorrow goes is such a mystery to me that I’d never dare admit how terrified I am of it. Other than now, on the internet.
Speaking of which, good job Earth. That’s all you’ll get but the partially Anonymous and Occupy organized ‘Million Mask March’ has shown up in news sites that even the sheep of society would deem credible. And, as far as I’ve heard, not many were arrested and none were killed in all of these gatherings across all hemispheres. What this may end up meaning in the scale of things is yet to be seen, but I can easily say that it could have gone much worse.
Still, this world of ours is at the same level, if not sloping upwards, in its usual catastrophe. A New Jersey mall had a young man who scared a whole bunch of people before making a much more public suicide than he would have managed otherwise, while Net Neutrality flushes down the drain. The pleas of the Pakistani whose lives have been decimated by the flying, killer robots of America went virtually unheard. Five members of Congress were present in the place taxes pay them to work, according to one article. In my quick search, I couldn’t find one that listed any more of them.
But this is all business that you already know, right? You, that well informed and important member of this society, you already heard about all of these things and are taking the steps necessary to fix it, right? Right? RIGHT?
Of course you’re not. Or at the very least you’re like me, and are not doing nearly as much as I could and a vast amount less than what I need to do. I may know better than most. I’m still talking much larger than I’ve been able to walk.
And so ceases my whimpers for this episode. It’s viciously selfish that I’ve done this much already. There are those who deal with more hardship that I can even begin to comprehend. I know a few of those people, and I love them dearly. I only hope that I can have the strength and perseverance that they’ve had facing such traumatic occurrences.
Which brings me to the true point of all of this.
A promise. It’s a promise I made to someone the last time I saw them, though at the time I thought I’d be seeing them again. ‘Twas that glorious woman who was one of the first fans of these ramblings that I choose to share with the world. She always told me that I had a gift and I would always thank her politely while never believing the talent she had seen in me. In a stern tone that I am glad she had been able to take with me, told me to never stop writing. I promised her that I never would.
She’s gone from this place now and despite my disbelief in afterlives, I hope she has found the peace and company that she truly deserves. But as for me, still stuck in this life, my work is only beginning and now it holds an extra bit of importance. Though she may never see the results, the last strand of my moral integrity cannot allow me to let her hope be for naught. She trusted me with this and if there is any hope left for my raggedy old soul, I cannot let her down.
So this is my promise to you, where ever it is you are now, even if that is nowhere: I will keep writing. I will force all of this thought, in both goodness and darkness, from my mind and soul in the elegance that I have already invested countless hours into refining. I will share these words with the world, in the hope that it will allow some grand and larger beauty to grow from the ashes of loss and tragedy.
It is the least I can do, for all that you had done for me and the vast amount more you’d done for my closest friend, to whom I owe my entire world. I promise I’ll keep writing. And I hope we can meet again someday, but if not, I will always keep your memory inside my mind.