Love's Naloxone Or Taking the Anti-love pill. Part Twelve – You learn: There is no off.

The night was like so many others. There was little sleep to be had and remaining prone simply made me feel all of the frustration of the moment. I only had three hours under my belt when I woke up. There is a nightmarish point when you wake and realize that you can either go back to sleep and not wake until past noon or you can simply take what you have and make functioning a goal for the day. There are many times when the days simply blend into each other. It’s something I’ve learned to live with and it’s probably something that if going to continue. I stopped curing years ago since like praying I found it more for ceremony than progress.

You pray you learn
You ask you learn
You live you learn

          There was nothing more to do than to hit the shower. The warm water did little to aid in my disposition. My morning ritual was on automatic as I somehow washed and dragged a razor across my face in some feat that still amazes me on the same level of not remembering how I ended up driving somewhere. In the end, it’s all reflex and my life is much more reflex than ceremony. I walked out to a rising sun, as I greeted it in my usual manner: wondering why it took so long in a growl of contempt and lack of patience. The magic of sunrises has been lost to me at this point and attempting to gather some sort prose in the name of Wordsworth is something that I can not bear anymore.

          My morning was full with a chance of hardship. I’m worrying about many things from my future, the health of my father, and my mortality to name a few. The drive westward is empty and unmemorable. It’s all reflex at this point. I contemplate thoughts that many would consider too morbid and dark and yet people wonder how I’m able to run forward and do what must be done without fail. There isn’t a morning that I do not contemplate my place in the universe. I’m not a proponent in any way and I’m still puzzled why I out of many possible spawn have won out in the statistical end. I’m in no way suicidal, but I do contemplate why I’ve had wroth with my hands and take this moment seriously. After all, I need to keep driven. I can not rest.

          My thoughts have collected into a theme. While listening to Jerry Seinfeld explain to Howard, that he can not be comfortable. There are some professions that can not entertain the idea of becoming comfortable. You can not enjoy your moment in the sun for the reason that your ability is based in some sort of misery. It’s something I’ve have been contemplating for years. It’s an idea that I have been chewing on and in truth has saved me from walking down the street. It’s a validation that I, just as Keanu Reeves, am not happy person. You have happy people and you have unhappy people. Not everyone can enjoy the sweetness of joy and for some of us that taste is too far between or in some cases just not sweet anymore.

You bleed you learn
You scream you learn
You laugh you learn

          I arrive at what I am consider my safe haven. I open the door as a small blonde walks towards me in greeting. She is in many ways a joy to me. I walk over and give what love I have to give and offer her a kinder greeting than the sun has received. She is vested and leashed and we walk out in the morning to an empty street. I have to be awake this morning. Too many things is riding on me and I need to be able to shine even if it’s gilded. We walk towards the donut shop that is the only thing that remains open here. Coffee is what I need even though I’m giving up some abilities for remaining awake. I made up my mind in the shower and I’m at peace. Outside the open shop, my little companion starts to do her happy dance and I break her heart by tying her outside and telling her that she isn’t getting a donut hole. Her tummy has been icky and that movement she had confirms my choice in the matter. She is going to ride my sentiments, but it’s all for the best.

          I walk in and I can tell I am already a regular. Small talk is exchanged with money as I choose the French Breakfast option: Usually coffee, croissant and an unfiltered smoke, but you can do only so much these healthy days. This is the business I have chosen for myself and being able to breath is a must. While in the shop a woman peaks out and asks me if she can pet my patient friend. I nod in approval and her face shines with joy as I finish my transaction. The carrot juice catches my eye, but I didn’t carry enough money with me.

          That’s ok, I didn’t want it anyways.

          I exit to a smiling friend and a happy woman. At first I think the couple is homeless, but it takes me a small moment to correct this. We have a pleasant conversation as we walk down the street. Oddly enough, my companion has softened my image as well as my heart. I usually move in a way that either hides me from the eyes of others if I’m lucky. Most of the time I’ve seen and most people switch sides if not give me my right of way. These days I’m only insulted by close friends or people who have no idea that my vocal mind resides in this body. To say that I am menacing it not a new thing. Even at 120lbs I’ve carried a dark cloud, so to say. Something about my eyes or the way I lead forward in my walk that seem to scream, “Don’t fuck with me”.

          And yet, you place a small dog by my side and somehow I’m either a spectacle to admire or I’m actually approachable. My small companion has already earned my share of smiles and numbers. I can almost feel that we are trading off our outwardly personas for what we really want to be. She struts forward and has made a large dog or two back off while I soften the mask on my face to something a bit more human and outwardly compassionate. To be honest, I haven’t felt this way since I was still a father rather than a parental icon. It’s the kind of thing that makes most people dumbstruck as they see me human.

          Our casual conversation led us to different paths as the young vagabonds walked away hand in hand as it struck me. While talking they shared with me something special. They shared with me a moment of their lives I’ve come to just realize now is why I’m still here. That small act of affection warmed my heart and even unearthed memories of a past life. Seeing two people against the world, holding hands has made me yearn if only for a moment for someone to hold my hand also. I do get these moments and I’ve realize that it’s something that I miss and yearn for as one would yearn for a cool glass of water on a muggy day. Watching them walk off I could is better than any thing I’ve had in a long while.

          Somehow nights of sweat soaked sheets is not enough.

          I replace the music back into my ears and skip the songs that come up in favor of something that will help me hold on to the feeling a bit longer. It’s rare that I feel this way and actually welcome it. Perhaps it’s because the street is still empty or that my dancing companion is smiling in hopes of a bit of a nibble. It’s something I do not try to dwell on. My chances of love have always been a bit too few and a bit too shady. I can only think of a few people that I had the chance to spend a moment of joy with without any tinge of bitterness or a scar and of those I can only laugh at since they’re almost too ridiculous to share. To give a taste, of the randomness and confusion of it all, one of my best relationships has been with a lesbian. Yea……..you can only imagine how confusing and heart wrenching it can be. Imagine that, being worthy enough to love, yet not worthy to spend your entire life with due your gender.

          Yea……had to stop seeing each other. It’s not fair to anyone.

          And yet something she said stick with me still. The concept that I’m someone worth loving even if its not going to end well, words that haunt me today. Imagine that. I’m worth the trouble, but just not in the long run. I’m that temptation that has to be sought out. I’m that one person it seems that brings a change in most people, but just not worth having part of that change. I’m the catalyst that makes women change their behavior and find themselves. It’s an honor I’m told and yet I can not help feeling like toilet paper. Toilet paper is that important. It’s needed and if you can get the good stuff it’s even luxurious. It’s just not something that you keep. You use toilet paper, not keep. In fact, once you’ve used it you don’t want it near you. You want it gone and not to be a reminder of how great it is. When do you miss it? When it’s gone. When do you appreciate it? When it’s gone.  When do you realize that it’s better than most? When you’re using it.

You live you learn
You love you learn
You cry you learn
You lose you learn

Must I go on?

          I stop at a grassy point to contemplate the emotion. I don’t give my self much time to pine usually, but I guess it’s needed. My small companion finds something interesting in a bunch of leaves as she decided where exactly she wants to mark. It was a touching moment back there. It also brought back a few memories here and there that made return to my original thought: The idea that certain people’s talent comes form suffering. It’s the reason why some bands mellow in time, writers lose their edge, and why some comics that made people laugh in their youth are now making Disney movies. Comfort is the thing that for some of us keeps us from reaching seeing what disturbs us and how we can catch hold of it again. It’s the cure for our creativity and the bane of our Muse. And there are very few things that bring me peace that is lasting. And sadly, I’m starting to realize that when I’m told I’ve changed what that means.

Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)

          I have for the past 15 years have been attempting to find peace from anger. It’s something that naturally you’d want to be free from, right? The Dalai Lama  compared anger as holding a hot coal in your hands long enough to throw it at someone, when all that is accomplished is burning your hands. Well that’s well and fine, but what do you do when your every waking moment is fueled by anger. Anger from injustice, the past, the stupidity of others, the arrogance of youth, the audacity of the aged, and the lack of empathy of anyone who feels that the lives of millionaires are worth the attention of a generation that the issues that make it’s life harder. I’m not one to erupt violently. I usually channel my rage in my writing and in humor, finding silly ways of making people look as stupid as they refuse to acknowledge. It helps that I look like I can handle myself in a fight and that I usually can back up my point with sense and proof. Yet, overall I don’t root my actions in spite or hatred even though I’m usually ticked off.

I recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time

Feel free

          Perhaps it’s that honesty that attracts others to me. Mayhaps it’s the fact that I can be intellectually playful or that I am able to cut to the bone when ever it’s needed. What ever the reason, I pull people to me because of the fact that I emulate a behavior that most people do not have. It’s quite natural to be attracted to someone with traits that you wish you had, but usually it’s a reason not to attain those traits on your own. That somehow those traits are just going to be passed down upon you through some rule of copulation. Sometimes those traits are attained and other time it’s what is holding a relationship together.

I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone
I recommend walking around naked in your living room

Sadly, when I’m in love there comes a time where I change. Blame it on the influx of estrogen or perhaps the fact that I find someone I can fall sleep with and trust. Either I usually end up happy. I end up looking at things in a different light and my anger actually subsides. Then everything else ends up as usual. After a period of time the relationship ends, I’ve been told that I either changed or the usual speal of outgrowing, the separations, the call back 6 to 9 months later and then the anger on the other side because I simply won’t forgive and return with my tail between my legs. The former is refreshing, but the latter is what is usual. And yet, it’s usually this time that I wonder who the hell I am and start to wake up to my inner self and by then the anger returns and I’m back to my self again.

Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)

I’ve done much to change this, thinking that this is something that is wrong with me. Of course I do not hurt others with it, or have any health problems outside of the occasional bought of insomnia like I’m having now, but writing has been great in freeing my rage and even allowing me to come to terms with things that has always bothered me. Finding ways of expressing my anger to force use of my verbal IQ rather than cause me to act out destructively has helped communicate with and help others with their own issues. And yet, I’m told that my health will degenerate and life will never be joyful unless I reach certain criteria.

You grieve you learn

And then I read about Keanu Reeves. If you have no idea, just google sad Keanu. And I listen to Howard and how he has changed and found someone to make him happy and yet, he is still the person who is fueled his anger. Hearing Seinfeld explain how being comfortable removes that misery that forces you used to get you where you are. That’s fine if you are happy and want out, but if you want to push yourself you can not remove it. That comfort is going to kill your muse. Reading Henry Rollins explain this concept just a few weeks ago and how he has stopped touring with Black Flag and yet still have enough drive to keep him happy and his happiness is rooted in his rage. There are people who can not be happy because that happiness or comfort is just going to kill them off form their creative process. It’s that thing that forces them to get up and try to make a change. Without it, they would probably just curl up and feel empty.

And so, I’ve come to this point that I’m probably going to remain alone. Outside of a romp or two here or there I have an expiration date when it comes to a relationship. I know that if I do attempt to start one that it’s probably going to end at a point when I stop being interesting. Then again, I can simply be lucky and meet someone who can understand all this which I find hard to believe since I barely understand it myself.

Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually anyway)

In the end, what matters is that you are true to yourself. There is much to write and understand as well as much to chase. As long as you can find just enough happiness to not interfere with your misery and source of inspiration then you can be fine. To paraphrase what Keanu said, you may need to be happy to exist, I don’t. I’m ok. I’m content with my time spent and my accomplishments. I keep busy and I have other ways to show affection and kindness. I never really like the idea of possession when it comes to love. I find it ironic and a little to selfish in seeing people are a flower in their own personal bouquet instead of happy where it’s growing. I still have things to figure out, but as far as I can piece together I’m fine where I am.

After a few sips and enjoying the fuzzy feelings from witnessing a small act of love, I looked over to my impatient friend. She urinated enough of the surrounding to carry that smile on her face and to ensure that most dogs will wonder where to start. I have a croissant to eat and a workout to plan out. I’m still chewing the concept of being happy in my misery or anger in my case even if I’m not very angry at all. I still giggle at what Banner said in the Avengers, how the secret to avoid his anger was to simply embrace it and be angry.

There is no off.

Wait until the dust settles

You wait and see when the smoke clears

You choose you learn