Day 272 - Vampire in the sun

My breath acts the part of startled, miniature ghosts. Jumping from my mouth every 3 seconds or so. My hands are stiff. I'm married to the nearly wet warmth between my scarf and lips. There's a slight breeze and it's razors line my finger tips. It's only been a half mile and I am already over winter.

I'm nestled into the warmth of a local restaurant. Remembering how the 18 year old me would've already been writing about how 'disconnected and indifferent' I can be. Hell, the 25 year old would've written that. Who am I fooling? Up until 40, I would've been writing that very same umbrella sentiment. It might have been veiled in a more obtuse way. Prettied up and candied, or viciously violent and lamenting.

And here's the part where I tell you that the man from those days has died. And in many grand ways, that's true. But it's more important for me to tell you (and myself) that the deep, undeniable darkness isn't dead. It merely lays dormant in me. Even with the light of therapy, sobriety, true love, focus, and medication. It would be a lie if I told you that my darkness was a vampire. That it was murdered by exposing it all to the sun. I have done that. With all of the darkness in me. I fully opened my book. And the bloodsucker just won't die. And that's fine, because now I have room for him.

I share this for those of you out there that may think I have been miraculously cured. That I am nothing but rainbows, puppies, and good tidings. In many, many ways, that is how I am. A freed man, most certainly. But I am absolutely not unilateral. The other dimension very much sits there. Peeking out from behind a corner. It's eyes dead and intentions miserable. My strength, however, comes from appropriating the correct tools to handle the little fucker. I've worked incredibly hard at it. And I've had overwhelming support in that battle.

What the fuck is my point?

Do yourself a favor. If you suffer from anything similar, don't ignore a single element of who you are. Face it head on. Accept that you might not be able to win for one day here and there. But for God's sake, don't ignore it. Doing that landed me dead once. And nearly twice. Shit's gonna keep coming, man. Always. Be alert, aware, and confident. It's the only way to make sure it stands no long term chance.

Day 268 - Feat damp, at best.

It was a bit naive and overly ambitious of me to think that I could start writing every day around the time that I worked 84 hours, traveled to 5 different cities on the East Coast, hosted Thanksgiving, went to a screening of a small film, made weekend long plans with my fiancee for her birthday, and had two rehearsals for a Christmas show all in less than two weeks.

Seems I still might not be ready given that the sentence I just typed went on for four lines.

But what the hell, right?

Happy to report that it was two weeks that I absolutely loved every minute of. Well, nearly every minute. Could have lived without my glasses breaking (again) and some critical back issues. But I'll take the percentage of amazing that I was lucky enough to swim through.

Looks like I start my record back up this week. With Joel, now that he's back from tour.

The break was good. It allowed me to distance myself from the things I have been writing. Allowed that necessary distance as to not fall into the trap of *the latest thing I've done is the best thing*.

Also, I can tell I am going to enjoy writing again. Once I get flowing, that is. I truly despise trying to quantify the speed of my thoughts on a cell phone. I guess that's the blessing and the curse of being a decent typist. It's nice to be in front of keys again.

Day 261

Writing the first sentence is overwhelming.

So there. That's all set, I suppose.

There is so much that I want to write about. So much that I have to divulge. To share. To blather about. So it's safe to say that the first sentence is hardly the most overwhelming thing about writing again after a four year silence.

I am not sure where to start. And in order to keep this blank white box from glaring back at me I figure that filling it with just this will provide a stepping stone.

I want to keep a journal, I suppose. Of things that are happening in my world, and of things that are happening in the world that lives in my mind.

I will try and do this on a very regular basis. I have wanted to do that before, and failed. So there are no promises. But I will try.

Maybe you can send me random questions? About anything. Maybe that will kickstart things? But please, no hipster smart ass rhetorical things please. Cheers.

In the interim, the is a plethora of old stories to pick through on here. Much of it feels like someone else's memories. But that's the charm, I suppose. Feel free to browse, if so inclined.

I'll be considering words.

*This format is completely (and lovingly) ripped off from F. Alex Johnson's wonderful blog Fearless By Default