Fall

"So smoke 'em if you got 'em
Cause it’s going down
All I ever wanted was you
I’ll never get to heaven
Cause I don’t know how."
LP

~

So he wrote a letter to life. It started and ended with the same line:

What do you want from me?

I find myself asleep. I find myself pretending to dream. Again and again, I find myself not finding myself at all. Could it be? Could it be a thirst for the taste of purple melancholy that drives my blood to abandon its lively red? This inescapable need to be part fiction, part reality splits me in three:

You, drowning in uncertainty—You free-falling in reality—And I, the hopelessly hopeful ghost, playing hide and seek with the void.

And I told you not drown. And I told you not to fall. And I told the void that I’d stop hiding. So it found me.

Pause.

My fingers flirt with the play button but they do it at a distance. They’re too busy choosing between past and present tense. And as I walk to enter the realm of grand delusion, I read the sign at the door.

What are you doing?

I told the night to leave me be. And I told the stars I couldn’t see. I told the ocean I couldn’t breathe. And then I asked myself:

Why won’t you wake up?

Now inhale the confusion. And then you’ll understand—that I try my best to breathe out the truth—that I try my best for me and you.

I can’t go on. I can’t go on. I can’t go on.

Why are you doing this to me?

I don’t know what you’ve broken. I don’t know if we become what we lose. I don’t know. I don’t know.

I don’t know what to do.

I wish you could pick up my pieces and hug them back to animate glue. But you can’t. For they make up the map that leads me home, to you. And I need to find you. I need to find you. I need to find you.

So dear foreign heart, I implore you not to trigger thoughts and words about faith and trust. For tonight is not about hope and dreams. Tonight is not about identity and purpose. Tonight is not about unconditional love. Tonight is an overflow of information, a mindful con, a paradigm shift, a transformation. Tonight is an absence of internal music, a silent restless dance, a failing numbness, an underrated emotion. Tonight is not a flowing ocean. Tonight's a broken rhyme, a nonexistent sign, a colorless color of a flawlessly flawed design. Tonight is devoid of plot twists. Tonight is everything and nothing—switching sides. Tonight is a beautiful, muted, song. So stop singing, 'cause you're out of tune.

Never stop.

~

“If you are falling....dive.” 
Joseph Campbell