The Blog of bluehaiku

I keep searching for something to lead me home, to keep me here, in the now. Brilliant flashes of light shine momentarily and I bask in the warmth, but they are gone in the blink of an eye. Where are my angels?

Moving like the speed of light, my mind won't stop, my thoughts take flight. I scurry 'round in circles now, doing nothing but I can't slow down. I wonder where this ride lets off, I want an end- I've had enough of round abouts and neverwheres...I want to be myself somewhere.

I hate being this way.....this sick. It pervades everything I do and I don't even know who I am apart from the illness. Are the relationships I have with people real? Is what I feel real? Are my thoughts rational? Is this a sign my meds are working or not working?

"Every little thing about this tells me

nothing out there is ever going to help me;

all these words that I hear spoken...

just promises broken now." -Soul Asylum

Do you ever feel like you are wandering around aimlessly, knowing you have a billion things to do, knowing your purpose is out there, and yet not having whe will or strength to accomplish any of all that needs to be done? Have you ever felt so overwhelmed that you were frozen mentally, enotionally, physically? Have you ever ventured down a path, realized you may be going the wrong way, and kept going anyway? Or maybe the path was a little over grown, and still you continued on, determined to see what at the end, even though it may not be anything?

Just last night (Sat) somebody very nice told me everybody has a purpose, and I am not a mistake. I had just met the guy, and he was filming the band I had gone to see ( I am on the video, by the way....too cool), and we talked a little, and he was very nice. A good person. And even though he didn't really know me, I sometimes wonder if it all shows in my eyes....certain people say there is so much sadness behind these blue eyes.

What's it all for anyway? Other people suffer way worse than I have. I am so overwhelmed by their suffering, and my own pain. I need to escape.

Is this where my mind is settling, inside this haunt of dreams and shadows that I have known so long? Like an old friend Satan lingers, waiting for the final call and I will belong to him. Am I mad, or is it my excuse for not living? Writing...oh, be friend or foe but not both! You torment me day and night, and yet I cannot dream of life without these words that flow like blood from fingertips of red. Peter, why did you leave? Why wasn't I there for you when you needed me most? You are gone.......and I can never get you back. Death follows me everywhere, and I cannot resurrect the lives he steals. I cannot resurrect my own soul.

Death again today. It hovers. My cousin died in a tragic motorcycle accident. Aren't all accidents tragic? What makes one more tragic than another? The amount of lives lost?

I'm feeling really kind of out of sorts today. Contemplative. In my head.

When heaven's angels

blow that final trumpet call

and I'm not there

don't cry for me.

When God himself

beckons you to follow

and I'm not there

don't wait for me.

As quicksand mires

'round my legs,

don't reach a hand

to pull me out

for fear you might fall in.

I've lived this life

I didn't choose

and welcome sweet release.

Shattered mindless

numb and dull,

floating weightless

broken doll.

vacant eyes stare

at the sky,

gauze film forming

tears to hide.

lifeless body

left behind as

birds take flight

in hazy dream

carrying off

Ophelia's scream.

Through early morning fog I see visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me I realize and I can see . . .
That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

I try to find a way to make all our little joys relate
Without that ever-present hate but now I know that it’s too late, 

and . . .That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

The game of life is hard to play. I’m gonna lose it anyway.

The losing card I’ll someday lay so this is all I have to say.

That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

The only way to win is cheat and lay it down before I’m beat,

and to another give my seat for that’s the only painless feat.

That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

The sword of time will pierce our skins

it doesn’t hurt when it begins

But as it works its way on in the pain grows stronger . . . watch it grin, but . . .
suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.

A brave man once requested me to answer questions that are key
'Is it to be or not to be' and I replied 'oh why ask me?'
That suicide is painless it brings on many changes
And I can take or leave it if I please.
And you can do the same thing if you choose

*theme song from MASH*

Temptress trying,

seducing, dying-

staggers to her feet of air

and wanders through a cloud not there.

Could love be such a fickle friend

to leave her lying at death's lair?

A single rose between her fingers;

thorns stream blood and gasp

the end.

I can go for long periods of time without thinking about a man, and then one day I wake up and I ache for someone's arms to hold me. I'm not even talking sexual contact here (no that I'd avoid it.....it HAS been 10 or more years!), but to feel warm and safe, loved, wanted......the ache grows and becomes a yearning, and I feel I can barely contain my self. I want to grab someone and just make them wrap their arms around me and hold me......just hold me.

I cry inside, where no one sees, and tears don't leave fading trails easily identifiable.

My heart hurts. Bandaids aren't going to fix this hurt, I am afraid.

It has been 5 months since my father died. I watched him die, actually. Just me and him in the hospital room, me being the night shift, seeing as my family was htere all day. I was sitting onmy cot when I looked up. Spongebob was on tv. My father's breath was coming slower, like a fish when it has been out of water too long, and it has no energy left to suck in air anymore. Gasps came slowly. I could only watch. And then......nothing. Just like that, he was gone. This big, powerful, dominating prescence in my life was suddenly no more. Could this be right? He was so commanding, so controlling when I was growing up; even as little as 2 years ago he was still calling all the shots. I was now staring at this shell of a man- eyes closed, chest no longer moving, mouth open, body ravaged by The Disease. No. No.......this couldn't be my dad. My dad was strong. He was going to live forever just to make us all miserable, we always half-joked.

But it was my father. What was left behind when he left. I rose off the cot and went over to him. I touched his forehead, and stroked his cheek. I love you daddy, was all I could say. And I cried. Big, heaving sobs. It surprised me how much it hurt.

I called the nurse then. She walked in, said "it's over already?" and left. I called my mother. She called everyone else. I was alone with my father for an hour before anyone else came back into  the room, including hospital staff. Spongebob was still laughing in the background. It seemed comforting, in a weird sort of way. I wasn't so alone then.

It surprised me how much it hurt. It still surprises me now. I didn't think I would miss him. I didn't think I would be thanking him for some of the traits he bestowed upon me....the good ones. Funny how we never think, until it's too late.