I went for a walk in forest park today.  I carried some black coffee and three books and a journal.  Only the coffee was used.

Disclaimer.  I’ve had two plates of shrimp pasta and 3/4 bottle of an Old Vine Zinfandel (the red stuff, not the pink stuff… friends don’t let friends drink white zin) and I’m typing oddly.  I’m a bit buzzed right now.

So I went walking.  I was in a weird state.  I went into the wood looking for the gods to speak to me.  I found a log crossing a creek and I laid on top of it for a while and I eventually heard an owl hoot over and over again off in the distance… at noon.  I thanked the gods for being (being) with me.  How often have I been in the woods?  Lots.  How often have I heard an owl?  Rare.  How often during the day at noon?

I am numb right now.  I can see how this is a desired state for someone escaping hurt.  This might not be escape… it could be a breather.  Every boxer needs that bell now and then to sit on the stool and spit the blood into the bucket.

I came upon a Pileated Woodpecker and I tried to snap some pictures of it on my iPhone.  Someday I’m going to get a good camera.  I had my GPS with me and was tracking down a geocache.  Due to heavy tree cover the GPS had its compass backward now and then I did a lot of bushwacking.  When I got to the right spot I found the cache in short order, signed it.  It was the Poet-Tree cache.  I left a little two line poem…. I can’t remember what I wrote… but it was something of a homage to Ani DiFranco… “So much is around me, my soul dilates”.  Ani DiFranco is out of the question… but my gods… to meet someone like her… I could fall in love with a soul like that!

After walking to the cache I was surprised to find that I had hiked for five hours.  I was hungry, tired, and ready to eat.  I went back and forth from state to state… from calm acceptance of the world around me, to anguish.  I was still hurting.

I drove back home, thinking of stopping at a bar, having a beer, and turining on the laptop to write a story that is brewing inside of me.  I ended up in the Cedar Hils area and at the movie theater.  Didn’t see it coming but it seemed like I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to be with anyone, didn’t want to deal with it all.  So I went to a movie.  Like I usually do I’ll see whatever is playing.  I had two choices… The Hulk or The Happening.  I wasn’t in the mood for suspense… so I went to the Hulk.  I was still in a very weird state from my last entry… and I needed some escapism.

The Hulk wasn’t it.

I wasn’t thinking or I would not have picked a movie about violence hidden within our selves and the theme of carrying on without the support of others and fear of hurting people.

Fuck me.

I cried often during the movie.  Many scenes got me hard and I had tears running down my face.  The scenes had exactly what I was feeling.  He had to leave her because he was scared of what he had inside of him.  He didn’t trust himself with her.  He was afraid of his rage, of what he might do.

I left the movie in a worse state.

I stopped at a grocery store, bought some wine and some noodles, shrimp, cheese, and sauce.  At the store I couldn’t look at anyone.  In the parking lot outside the movie theater I was walking to the truck and a guy walked by.  When he was ten paces to my left, for no reason, he turned around and walked backwards.  I felt it as a challenge and wanted to turn toward him and challenge him back.  I could feel the twinge of desire to beat him within me.  I muttered to myself, as I closed my eyes, to not even look at him, keep walking to the truck and don’t look.  Its nothing.  At the store I turned on my iPhone onto some music and an acoustic (the B side version) of “Possession” by Sarah McLachlan came on my phones.  It set the mood as I roamed the aisles looking for food.  not really roamed… I barely shuffled.  When I came upon somone I would scan the other direction, not daring to look in their direction.  Since the fucking movie I had odd waves of emotion creep over me.  At one point I was driving and growling and baring my teeth.  What the fuck is up with this??????  In the store I felt alienated from everyone around me.  I could sense their positions around me, like blips on the radar, but they seemed like moving statues to me… not human.  Realizing this, noticing that I was unable to empathize with them, bothered me all the more.  Emotions filled me.  I had long gave up trying to understand them… I was hanging on for dear life.

Back home… I opened my door with a bag  in my hand.  The usual routine is always the same, my two beloved cats meet me and meow for attention.  They are spoiled and I love them a lot.  They go to bed with me everynight and wake me up every morning.  This is the first time something different has happened.  This time they looked at me from across the room as I opened the door and they ran for the bedroom and hid under the bed.  I was breathing hard from emotions, gritting my teeth, feeling like a monster… and my two cats, who know no fear of me, ran.

I’ve always said animals are good judges of character.  To see them run from me only for entering the room… hurt all the more. Am I a monster?  Its the question that keeps coming up over and over.  How easy it would be to do harm.  There are few chains keeping that part of me down, it would seem.  “We are what we think” goes the saying.  I pondered this on my walk.  A person could desire to eat sweets and  to crash the diet, yet not actually do it.  A person could have urges to cheat on his wife but not follow through… so we are not only what we think.  We are, in large, what we do.


Yet… what is a killer?

I am a killer.

There was a time when I talked with someone and boasted that I’d done all the sins in the book save for killing.


What can I write?  I’ve done them all.  I feel no guilt for some of them.  But killing?  Killing the enemy is hard enough.. but non fighters?

I am afraid of myself.  I have this quick reaction in me right now that is very near the surface… very near to come out.  It feels as though it would not take much for me to really jump on someone and pound them.  It isn’t a question of strength… it is a question of the desire to hit those vulnerable points that really hurt, that can’t heal… that I know about and that I, gods forbid, want to hit during a fight.  9 pounds of pressure to snap a neck, 7 pounds of pressure to break a clavicle, 3 pounds pressure to pierce the trachea, and an easy task to disable someone for life.

I am so afraid right now that I can’t think.  I’ve friends that love me that I want to call… but I don’t.  I feel as a leper, as something evil.

I know this is an emotional storm.  As much as I desire everlasting peace (don’t entertain the notion anymore) I tell myself that it’ll end… just hang on and this too will pass. Eventually I’ll be in calmer seas again and perhaps I can help others like me.  Until then… I am hanging onto shadows and smoke.


One thought on “breathe

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