Giant Clock vs GORGO!!
Originally uploaded by stevenguerrerobass
I'm not quite sure what is going on, but I seem to be sitting down to write later and later in the evening. It's probably that the kids are demanding, by way of their behavior, more of my attention in the days of late. It could also be that I have been completely swamped at work, and can't settle into my writing until my head has stopped spinning.
Today I was a big emotional mess. There is not a more distinguished way of putting it. Big tears. Big curse words shouted into the wind. It's a good thing that I wasn't blessed with any type of super human powers, because I would have slayed an entire city, or at least those who dared to cross my path.
I don't particularly like this aspect of my grief, as it feels very petty. But sometimes bitterness needs to raise it's ugly head. And my level of anger and bitterness with the world around me reached such monumental levels that I likend myself the size of a Macy's parade balloon. Only the image I have in mind is not in any way cute or jolly.
First off I need to figure out what color is ascribed to bitterness and anger. Certainly deep blood red figures into this equation. I'm going to take some liberties here and assign a multi-layered green for my bitterness. As it is difficult to sort out all of my feelings, and the anger and bitterness often blend into one, I am going to experience my exterior as a constant melding of these colors into one another.
My deep set eyes are pure black, with heavy tears the color of steel. They are hot liquid metal that hit the ground like large grenades, shattering the concrete of this city where ever I may roam.
My voices is a deep groaning of pain, coupled with a high pitched wailing that pierces the ears, causing extreme pain to all in a one mile radius. There is really no escaping the horrific sound.
I don't float high above the other city dwellers, but right next to them, only softly hoovering slightly off the ground. In this way I am not felt as a true presence among them, more like a menacing ghost.
As my day goes on, my anger and bitterness begin to overtake me. I am no longer able to keep it within as I have trained myself to do. My head turns ever so purposefully, focusing on those that walk beside me, happily strolling hand in hand with the one they love. They are so enamored with each other, and with the love they feel so blessed to have. Their inner thoughts become so clear to me, as if amplified beyond a comforting tolerance.
"I am so in love with you."
"You are my one true love."
"We shall spend a lifetime together."
"Bless me along my journey as we grow old together."
"God is such a loving god."
"How did I get so lucky."
"I must have done something right to deserve you."
"I must have done something right to blessed with such happiness."
Kill, Kill, Kill.
My dark eyes begin to take on a fiery red heat. A burning heat wells up within my lungs. It takes control of my once loving heart. The heat becomes unbearable. It rises, and rises, I can no longer hold it within. From the fire of my pupils comes a heat so bright it singes all in my path. I turn to the left, FIRE! I turn to the right, FIRE! No one is spared the bile that rises up in my throat. I have been holding my anger within for so long. I have suffered the excruciating pain of the blood boiling within my veins. My heart has been charred, and my lungs can no longer hold back the polluted air that I strain to keep inside.
I scream out with a loud wailing screech. All those around me have their hands holding onto their ears in a futile attempt to keep the truth of my pain from entering their peaceful existence. My breathe carries with it a fire that burns down whole blocks within seconds. No one is spared by wrath. Now they will know of my pain. Now they will question their blessings.
"Why are they being so mistreated?" "What have they done to deserve this?"
They city air becomes filled with one endless chorus of voices. "Why?" "Why?" "Why?"
I stop myself in an instant. I look all around me. I see leveled buildings, all reduced to broken pieces of concrete, metal and shards of glass. I see wandering people, their vision impaired by the dark clouds of smoke. I can slowly hear their individual voices break through the chaos.
"Where did you go?" "Where is my wife?" "Where is my husband?" "Where is my lover?"
"Why did this happen?" "What the hell did I do to deserve this?" "Where is my God now?"
A whole city is now filled with wailing survivors. Their pain is too much to bear witness to. How do I respond to each of them? How could I have done this? What have I become?
Tears fill my eyes. They begin to fall down my face. They are no longer metallic in nature. They are soft, and wet. My skin feels tender to the touch. My feet are planted firmly on the ground. I can feel the cool breeze gently drying the tears as they fall. I open my mouth, and exhale, cool and refreshing air. I walk forward, moving down the sidewalk to a store window that was left untouched. I lift my head slowly, and carefully open my eyes. I look at my reflection.
It is me.
As I focus once again on the city all around me, I hear the sound of traffic. I hear the faint sound of voices all around me. They are in pairs, one speaking, the other responding. I look into their eyes as they pass me by. They look up in unison, and smile. For one moment they take their love and happiness, and share it with a stranger, hoping their good fortune will lift his spirits. They sense his sorrow. They know not his circumstances, but give him give him a purposeful nod.
I smile back, and move forward.
Please enjoy the musical selection that accompanies today's post.
"Monster in the Mirror"
there is such vivid imagery here, and your pain vibrates. i am sorry you have hit this point. i wish there was a trick or a "cheat" i could give you. i cannot. Churchill said, "If you're going through Hell, keep going." it's all we can do. keep going.
ReplyDeletei am glad you could get this off your chest, work through it as you wrote. i hope it was cathartic.
sometimes people do notice us. but they are fellow travelers on this particular path. a couple of weeks ago i went with my daughter to her eye exam. a woman in the frames part of the office walked over to me and asked, "Who is in your pendant?" {i have a little glass pendant that carries some of my Dragon's ashes that i wear whenever i go out.} i told her it is a bit of my husband's ashes. she smiled in a knowing way and said, "I am a widow, too. Four years. I knew what the pendant was; I just didn't know who." we reached for each other's hands and she did not say her name, she said, "George." i said my husband's name. she said, "It's hard, isn't it?" i said "Yes, it is. One year for me." she didn't say it got better, or easier. she said, "You get more used to it." we squeezed hands and then parted.
sometimes people see it in us. they recognize the accoutrements of grief and make contact. not that i wish this on anyone but i hope someone, a veteran of the journey, reaches out to you today and makes contact. i wish you peace.
Dan - You have so well described those moments when anger at the injustice of our whole situation wells up and takes over the controls for awhile. However, eventually it winds down again and we can return to a better state of mind. In my own case, there have been times over the past 19 months, when I felt like Gorgo several times a day. I remember telling a friend that my anger was becoming so huge that it could swallow the world. At times, the pain of containing that much anger actually seemed to make my head hurt as though it was going to blow up! But gradually, I've pretty much left Gorgo behind. Yes, the anger still appears now and then, but happens less frequently and blows over much quicker. I don't think I've had an full-blown anger attack since around December - so it seems this phase must eventually pass. Take heart.
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