Hey all, or those of you who still check for a pulse from this space. It's with some contempt (for self) and obligation (to self) that I get re-established in this franchise. It's like leaving someone or something good for no good reason other than cowardice and then being too afraid to look behind at what's left.
Eventually enough time goes by or enough things happen that you just want to tell someone or anyone that will give you enough time and listen. I've been to lots of places that must be cobble stones to the doorstep of Hell but then again I was never that good at following the beaten path so I didn't manage to dance with El Diablo and I'm still waiting to see what tricks the Magic Man has up his sleeves before I slip off those shoes.
Having the load of life/shit that was dumped on and swam in by yours truly at the beginning of the year sure made it hard to see clearly what was in front of me. Surviving was living and that kinda living makes waving the white flag an appealing option. When you're tired of it all, enough so that you pretty much fall asleep at your boss' desk as he's dressing you down, it seems the way to go. Problem is though, when there's that much of __it flowing, there ain't much that stays clean and I needed something to wipe the windshield so flag option was out.
Everything seemed far away and the only things that seemed close weren't friends, relatives or hope. It was during those times when I understood how people who chose not to stay the course could fall prey to the grips of the drugs and drinks. Fortunately I'm Chinese and I have an inborn allergy to some (all) alcoholic products so that option was automatically ruled out for me. As for the other option, I've seen enough of what little substance is left after the substances have passed their course that I left that sleeping dog lie.
I wanted someone to reach out to me and pick me up to tell me things would be ok and know it to be true. I needed something tangible in front of me, something I could count on every time when I wanted it. I was needy. I was selfish. As such, I was left with arms wide open, clutching at anything and everything forgetting to raise the proverbial umbrella only to drown a little further when I lifted my head to curse into the downpour. I've never been one to not "be there" and the times when I needed a fraction returned I grew accustomed to disappointment to the point when surprise greeted a connected call.
Left wanting, I sought the company of quantity as clearly quality was something I found to be beyond me. Who and what I needed wasn't there or just not able to help. Misery shackles you with interesting bed fellows both figuratively and literally and the final disconnect between the physical and the emotion/factu/actu/sexu/spiritu/al had me a step away from being the furthest from who and I what I considered to be "me" I'd ever been. When it gets to the point where the things you love doing and experiencing don't matter, there's something seriously wrong.
As previously mentioned, somewhere between here and Hell I got lost. I can't really remember where it was that happened, I can only say that it did. It started with wanting to get back to writing in an act of re-connecting, but with what I wasn't too sure of at the time so I didn't. The thought was there so I let that count for something. Fools credit, but I had to get it from somewhere.
As it should be for everyone out there, but unfortunately isn't always the case, my redemption started with my family. I've gone on about them before and how much they mean to me and how great they are both individually and even more so as a whole. In their own ways they sunk a few hooks in, here and there, and carried about their unusual awesomeness. Eventually the tides began to recede and I was held far enough out of the undertow to get a foot hold.
We're not always a touchy, feely bunch but we know how to get it done when we need to. I guess if there's ever a group of people you don't want to give up on you, it'd be anyone in my family. Yes, I know there's a certain degree of personal bias there but trust me it only takes us once and we'll have you signed up. Yeah, there are times when we want to kill each other and we each think the others are useless twits but when the time comes we know where to turn.
There's a lot that's happened since my feet were planted again and I look forward to processing much of what has transpired. Hopefully there's still an audience to read about it when those times come.
So if you see any of these faces looking at you and you're wondering what the hell it is we're looking at, we're probably laughing at something but ready for anything.
