Trezvennost II

I keep noticing –
Movies now have less
Cigarette smoking.
That’s good!
Yet booze flows freely…

Through struggles
I know now what booze is –
A liquid lie,
Bent on destroying
Body spirit and mind
Not out of evil spite.
No, we made it ourselves,
To ourselves
And accepted as indenting reality
That we keep it
To brighten our days.

Yet for some of us
That joy is the worst poison.
And to all others – wasn’t it still deadly?
Yet they too take it fondly
And call it refreshments
While it’s anything but!
They keep returning to it,
Not as wildly as I would, granted,
But don’t they seem to
Depend on getting refreshed?

Guess where I’ve been last Friday night? That place where I saw you for the first time, and took you home from an hour later. That’s a sad place down there. It looked nice and well equipped and all kinds of services seem to run nicely, but the residents looks sad, and hopeful, and more sad. I remember how excited you were when I came to meet you.

And next day I walked through a much happier place, a massive off-leash park with so many dogs running through snow, and I remembered you, and thought you’d love that too.

And I also remembered what day was coming around in connection to you because in four day would be two years since we don’t have you in our lives (which was yesterday). Lots of things to think, to recall.

And you are still with us, in our memories. In the stories that your toys we still keep tell. In the places you lived to go to and play at. In your pictures at our home. In the pictures and videos your mom and I find on our phones and share with one another.

I miss you, master fluffy playing kind kid.

Sitting constant observ in the hospital,

Facing another staff on constant,

While patients sleep on –

It’s nice to have a warm job,

But time runs slow

Just as blood in the veins,

A nourishment of a paycheck 

While you accomplish nothing otherwise.

Sitting on the train,

That is sitting in a tunnel, –

I’m waiting to be released,

Waiting to be let go home,

While the steel snake collects dust,

Waiting to go on.

Time, time, time

An endlessly probing tyne

Stabbing my existence

With questions of “why,

Why still to I sit so still?

And how much longer?

And is there really any benefit to this?

This and other time 

I am in temporary service,

And the best metaphor for it 

Is food,

That feeds the gut, 

Then turns to shit, 

Loudly fearing the end of it all.”

How nourishing a thought that is,

Knowing your value,

Driving your brain into scream

Getting deaf, as well,

For while all that rubbish is never to perish

Rolls and whispers,

Noise never ceases, 

And it bounces and screams –

Announcements, advertisements, 

Orders and empty promises,

But mostly – endless chatter

Of whine, of last night’s dine and wine,

Of bullshitting yourself while bullshitting others.

Why still all this, 

Listening to all the unnecessary junk

(and perhaps, subconscious propaganda)

Of consumerism and complacency,

While my sanity’s expiring like a jug of milk in the fridge

And the eardrums surely distressing into jelly –

When I could have been sleeping

And knowing none of this,

Attempting to cheat time.

Sit & wait – 

I think it’s a weapon 

That kills with more efficiency

Than a Smith & Wesson.

I heard this hilarious one-liner at a meeting once: when someone is throwing crap at you, it doesn’t mean you have to catch it and throw it back.

Hilarious though it is, it is so true…

… because I had it happen to me and my coworkers in a hospital where one much mentally unwell patient used to throw his crap at us, and we surely behaved professionally…

… but speaking metaphorically, I still have a hard time successfully applying the “don’t throw crap back” principle to my life. I still throw the proverbial crap back when it is thrown at me. Anger, frustration, fear of being ridiculed farther, who knows what else…

Sometimes I can stop myself. In other times I can stop myself half way. And then… there are times I it appears the thrown crap hits the fan and throws it all all back at me in ways I didn’t expect was possible. And what do I do about that if not lash out in all might?

Ask for help from above works. Breathing deeply and slowly also helps. Learning experiences, I guess.

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the image was copied from https://www.vecteezy.com/free-vector/no-poop thankyou.

is my pain real?

is it really pain?

do i walk weird?

i sure feel strange

i know it’s natural

i’ve caused this by lack of care

but i still feel i dont belong in your ranks.

i know it will pass but right now i feel messed up and..

i like it.

maybe that’s how… or maybe not… they walked on the Moon.

for several seconds, i’m in a different world.

i like it there.

i needed that break from the mundane. It

i had no happiness,

just satisfied existence no vivacious ride,

but knowing that it’s a life on universes terms

and it outweighs your input,

no matter how great.

in the land where great violence looms,

in my mind’s eye music and hopeful songs

sometimes uninvitedly come into greater view

and out-shadow anxiety and deeply missing sanity.

this walk of light treading and caring not

is easier to breathe through.

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the image was copied from https://www.sciencefocus.com/space/how-long-would-it-take-an-astronaut-to-walk-around-the-moon thankyou.

Words… there aren’t much…

What do they matter

In the space of emotions,

Where loss is prevalent

And helplessness is overpowering?

In times of giddy green,

We joined you running

And squirrel-watching.

In frozen months.

We followed your tireless mice hunting

And in-snow rolling, smiling widely.

And in the midst of all, at home, –

Toy-playing and fabric-tearing

Licking dish so ferociously,

I thought you’d eat it.

Claws scratching stone floor,

Us knowing you’re coming over.

Shaking while you sleep,

Chasing dream rabbits.

Your presence and all these character traits

Made it even more that –

Home.

Then a year ago,

It all went sad and silent for an ever

Where no phrase sounded right

Unless muffled in tears.

There was some laughter,

Of us sharing memories of your goofiness

And there was more still air

Of our recalling your kindness,

Forever Igorized.

Your little sister in spirit is much like you,

And yet so different.

I cherish memories of how you were,

As I brush her hair and look into her eyes

Seeming so wise,

Perhaps knowing things

I started so slowly learning from you,

And now studying with her.

Thankyou for all your joy,

And patience, and effort

To help me feel air and earth,

And in between.

I’m in debt to your enjoying living

And sharing it with us.

Remembering you,

Igor the Fluffy Torpedo.

Miss you a lot.