continued from this piece of fiction/farce/faking/....
Like the average graduation from any school or friendship or relationship, either I or they were taken away. Promises of keeping in touch followed, but never really panned out too well.
I got lost in the abyss of who really gives a crap about me along the way. Seemed silly considering that I wasn't rich or famous enough to write a memoir, nor poor or desolate enough to die appropriately. I was simply ... me. And I guess that wasn't enough, for me.
Being somebody who thrived on doing his own thing was a pretty happy task, until I failed at my first undertaking. Then I failed at the second. Was the third going to be a charm and what exactly was the barometer of success at such?
At times, I wanted to rip the hairs from my skull right out when seeing the moments of everything I did right, while others did wrong. I saw it all, in moments between dreams. And I did plenty of wrong in between those as well. That part of life sucks...
When I awoke, I wondered if this was simply a synapse or two firing off in my brain or actual reality.
I learned very abruptly that it was the latter.
When questions of a higher power reached my stool, I grinned in appropriate consideration. For when the time came, which it seems to inevitably do, you learn a whole lot about life when experiencing death. It's a shame it ever has to come to that.
Anomaly of sorts, maybe.
My one or two question(s) on July 17, 2011 was why and how ... cause the dream told me the when. In the sheer moments, I was unable to grasp the why ... but the how was becoming much more clear.
The next time anybody told me to 'Take Care & Keep In Touch' ... they better fucking mean it.
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