Time and time again, I find myself asking the question, why?
Of course it is, we ask ourselves why all the time, about every move we make, about every decision, citing it to ourselves at a later date, why the choice had to be made, why we, did what we did.
When Fear In Fear Magazine closed, and I had no creative output for my stories, I fell in to a holding pattern, one that involved drink, drug, and darkness. I don’t blame Clare for going back home, taking the girls, she tried talking to me, she yelled, clawed, screamed, cried, she did everything she could, but when she realized nothing would work, she left, one day, no warning, well, I guess that’s a lie, she gave me plenty of it.
But, one day, I woke from my stupor, and, they were gone.
8 years passed quickly, I binged, lost my soul more than I care to admit, became this shell, this nothingness, until my words found me again, through this blog.
But, I lie, I never stopped writing, not really, not inside my head, and somehow, those words, that were inside, found their way out through him.
I’m losing myself.
After, for the first time waking up in this world, waking up, and finally, really becoming me, I’m not sure, I am, who I should be, when maybe, I should be…
It doesn’t matter, I guess its the nerves about this weekend, I want to call, I have a number, I want to say hello, but, is that enough?
When all the stars fall, when all the dreams end, what is left for us to pick up? What do we truly become? And, who’s eyes do we see through? Yours? Mine? Hers? His? Or, in the end do we all become its slave?