17 September 2007

Dial Tone

How on Earth did we ever reach this point in life? People deserve better than me, and I need something else in my life. I'm incredibly empty right now. DIAL TONE. DISCONNECT.

There was a life somewhere back there, that I somehow missed the turn for. I look back along the road and I can't figure out where I missed the fork and ended up here. DIAL TONE. DISCONNECT.

I was almost happy once. And then out of the blue, for whatever reason, things changed. I missed the shortcut to the relatively happy door, and ended up outside in the cold, looking in, wondering where I'd wandered off of the path. DIAL TONE. DISCONNECT.

"Whatever you do, don't let them get this letter when they come. Make sure it gets mailed before they find it." The desert, the dust, the heat. Silver flashing, pain slamming deep into my arm, then numb. Looking down, tendons open to the dry night air. Moving. Terminaor flash back. Fuck this. Find a towel. Driving through the desert, blood loss taking its toll, the car sliding sideways, almost rolling. DIAL TONE. DISCONNECT.

Faced death. Been there, done that. Father died a week after moving to Houston. Middle of Lowes. Phone call. Shock hitting. sitting down in the middle of the aisle. No tears. Nothing. Just a picture of my dad, unable to get one more breath. Falling over. The doorbell ringing. Too Late, Too late. He was fucking dying awhile someone came to visit him, only he didn't answer the door. He couldn't, because he was dying. My mom wasnt' there. My Mom and first son enroute to Houston from Albuquerque. They were on the way to see me when he died, alone. I gave the eulogy. No Tears. He fucking died. What is left to say? Is there anything I can say to bring him back? No - just to ease the pain of these simpering idiots that put in an appearance at the funeral. DIAL TONE. DISCONNECT.

In one two minute explosion of emotion, I finally loosed the grief in a storm of agony, six months after he died. That was it. Nothing else. One little explosion of anguish, and then silence. Nothing to say. DIAL TONE,. DISCONNECT.

I hate where I am, who I am, my life. And no one is close enough to me to even begin throwing a lifeline, much less saving me. I built the fucking walls too high, too deep, too strong. I did that after someone got in. Got in and never appreciated what she'd accomplished. Burned me. Left me for dead. So I rebuilt the walls. No one gets in now. NO ONE. But then, there's no one strong enough to find the door to get in and save me. So it goes. It's what I do. Survive. No happiness, no love, just alive. Life support. Not brain dead, emotionally dead. No one left to break down the walls and free me. No one left even to show mercy and pull the fucking plug. This is me. Its what I am.



Roadchick said...

That's not true (the walls).

You've said so, yourself.

You could meet someone halfway by at least removing some of the mortar between the bricks.

What it boils down to is - do you have the courage to do it?

Love you, man.

Michael Thomas said...

Sure. And even if I let someone in - its a dead end issue cause I'm stuck where I am at, no messin.

heather said...

if you can't bring yourself to remove some of the mortar then at least plant some english ivy. it looks pretty and ~very~ slowly eats it's way through the mortar. choosing to imprision yourself doesn't mean you can't enjoy the view.

i'm with chick here, courage. if i could send it to you in a pretty little box all wrapped up and tied with ribbons i would.

briliantdonkey said...

Agreed with Heather: Plant some Ivy. Oh and if you happen to see mary in the ivy tell her I miss her. Sorry I haven't been by in a while. I am wayyyyyyy behind in the blogging/ commenting department.


Kofi said...

definitely have had some disconnect moments lately. All right, maybe more than some. Whatever... In any case, I vibed with this post.

Kold_Kadavr_flatliner, the VitaminSee said...

Mike, I have the answer. Pray. Open-up the lines of communication between mortal you and Jesus. And think, please. Think of how you want your weee lifetime to go. Is it taking the wrong turn? Repent in whatever faith you're comfortable in - I prefer Catholicism - and git on the RIGHT track to Heaven. We only have, like, 77ish years. Meet me Upstairs, brudda, for my BIG-ol, kick-ass, party-hardy for eons celebrating our resurrection. Love you, bro. God bless you.