Screaming into the void... again.

 Writing a blog is very often for the author more than anyone else. I mean, I know this has been great for me over the years. I love to write, I like to try and capture my thoughts as I go through this life.  But I have to temper all my thoughts and opinions with the fact that no one really gives a shit what I think.  And, I mean, with good reason.  I'm okay with that - I like to think my experiences have shaped my opinions and that I have been through some unique situations, but ultimately... what I think doesn't matter. I'm always amazed at things I see on the net - mostly social media comments and such.  People offering unwanted opinions on things as if anyone gives a rats-ass what Johnny Nobody thinks.  There's a lot of overinflated egos and self importance out there.  I definitely used to be more like that - I'm fervent in my opinions on pop culture, books, music, film, etc.  Once upon a time, I probably thought my opinons on things actually mattered.  Either foolish youth or optimism. I can look back now and say... it doesn't matter.  None of it mattered.

None of it mattered to other people.

But... it matters to me.  So I write. I express. I shout into the void with my voice... sometimes in a song, or sometimes in the written word.  Because I need to express it, if only for myself. It's a validation of my humanity and the recognition of my soul in this mortal experience.  I'm no mover and shaker, or taste maker... and that's okay.  But, I care about what I think. Because when I stop caring, I've stopped thinking and if I've stopped thinking... what's the point in life?

So many people out there cope with the existential dilemma in different ways.  Some just live with it.  Others indulge in anything to take their mind off it... sex, drugs, alcohol, food.. many things.  And it's interesting how we can betray our own heart or moral compass when we're just trying to escape that feeling of staring into the void and having it stare back at you. It's a lot.

I don't know who the hell even reads this anymore. If you do, I hope you enjoy it. It's just my own personal contribution to the void, in the hopes that maybe I can fill in the spaces in my own soul enough to be brave and stare into the void and say "Ok."  That long lonely hallway stares at me everyday as I regain consciousness and try to do my best in this world for the people who count on me.  So, I guess, this blog is just one exercise of me standing on the precipice of time itself and screaming into the void. 

I'm not gonna quote Nietzsche here, but if you've a modicum of classical education, I know your ass is thinking about abysses gazing into you. Nerd.

One Year

One year ago today, my wife came home from work early and said,”I can’t do this anymore.” and took the kids, left our home and went to live with her parents. I do not think I have experienced more profound loss nor greater pain in my life before or since. And I’ve had three kidney transplants and many various surgeries that would kill some people.

But the pain in my heart, soul and mind are unrecoverable. I put my all into us and what we had. I was always scared to love, to trust - because I knew it would inevitably end the way it did. I am irreversibly broken and though I will never be complete again, I continue on. For my kids - they love me so, and I them. Honestly, as cliche as it sounds, they’re the only reason I’m here. They really seem to adore me and I hate to put any sadness into their life by not being here.

And I miraculously got another kidney transplant after not faring well on dialysis- yet it felt so hollow. All I wanted was a transplant so I could do better for my family - and for my wife. I never met another human being I adored as much as I did her, and to watch her disconnect from me and leave me was much like watching my kidney slowly fail over years and leave me. Heartbroken feels like to easy a word to describe how I feel. Language is all about communication but I don’t think even after a year I have written enough words to express my sorrow. I can’t even find the right music to express it. I play every day but nothing quite captures it fir me. I’ve written many songs but they are not quite there, for me. Hopefully they connect with others and bring some solace to them someday when I record them.

But another year - they say it gets easier. It doesn’t. You just get more adept at dealing with it and existing through the pain in your life. But deep in the night when I cannot sleep, it finds me and reminds me of the depths of my unhappiness. I do not see a good or happy future for me for the rest of my days. Which I am sure are much more limited than others. If I could survive 15 more years, for Jack and Josephine to grow into young adults, I will be happy.

I put all my love and faith into one basket that was irrevocably destroyed. Such is the risk you take with love. And in spite of the end, like a fool, I would not change a thing. What I had for those years was worth the fall. I’d do it again and again, like a fool, for the risk always lives. To live... would be an awfully big adventure.