What Remains To Be Found...

For those readers who've been following my writings for awhile now, you've seen me at various stages in my life and journey... arguably at my worst and at my best, functional and completely non-functional. There has been sways and spikes, crisis and rejuvenation, redemption and reprisal... a virtual cornucopia of emotions and thought. Recently, things have been much worse and I have found myself at the darkest depths of my life... although I moved across the country to better my life, ironically, sorrow and addiction have been my only lasting companions. On Saturday, unable to deal with the loss of the single most important thing in my life, I tried once again, to leave this world behind... my attempts were in vain, and as you can clearly see by this entry, unsuccessful. I couldn't bear the burden of this relentless sorrow any longer, so the daily routine of running, escape, and self-medication increased significantly... instead of stopping once I had obtained the desirable level of intoxication, I continued consuming more and more Morphine. With blurred vision and over whelming euphoria consuming the last fibers of my consciousness, choking on my own saliva because I was too high and detached to even swallow, I continued chasing that white rabbit until my body collapsed. This should have been the final stand, my desistance, the end complete... I "awoke" quite sometime later, drenched in sweat, saliva, and piss, muddled and unable to form rational thought. After yet another failed attempt at leaving this place behind, I was convinced God is a fucking sadist and he truly just wants me to continue suffering for my transgressions and failures.Days later, I still don't know how to feel about it, other than the fact that I'm fucking pissed off for having wasted so much Morphine... that was enough to keep me "stratosphere" for a week. The escape was temporary in the end, and here I find myself still unable to bear these feelings of loss and sorrow... my heart is broken beyond all repair and my desire and will are completely tapped and exhausted. Lost in the "what if's..." and "should have's...", I must face each day alone and hopeless of reunion... each breath is powdered glass and my eyes have been cried dry.

This confession speaks volumes about myself... my weakness, pathetic and hopeless nature, my addiction, and self-worth. But I'm not the only one in the spot light... now you stand center stage and it's your reflection that is captive. Depending on your reaction and thoughts, you're one of three types of individual:

- If you're filled with compassion and you're thinking to yourself, "Damn, Alabaster Frank... I love you and I'm here for you always, but I really think you need to get some type of help.", I want you to know that I appreciate your concern, compassion, empathy, and kindness. However, ironically, I am already enrolled in a Crisis Stabilization Program and I have people coming over to my house every day to make sure I am safe and getting the help that I need. The problem is that I feel dead inside and there is no remedy for that... when that tree burned down, it took away everything that I am or could ever possibly become. It was a moment of complete and absolute loss that turned my entire world upside-down and inside-out. Where do you go from here? How do you get there... or find the desire to even care?

-If you're filled with anger and you're thinking to yourself, "Shut the fuck up already! If you want to die so fucking bad, I'll fucking do it for you, you worthless, stupid, fat, fucking piece of shit!"... ah, honesty, how refreshing. I'll tell you what... send me a message, and I'll give you my address and you can come over here and do it for me, OK?

-And finally, if you're filled with mockery and lack any real courage of your own, because you're one of those people that masturbates to videos on YouTube of bullying victims crying their eyes out and self harm photographs, and you're thinking to yourself, "Ha ha, you're such a loser! I think this is so funny... you can't even kill yourself right because you're so stupid and pathetic!. Quit crying about it and try it again, so I can laugh at you failing yet again!". Sadly, if this is how you truly feel, I suppose you're even more pathetic than I am. Obviously you're so lost and soulless that you'll scour the Internet, searching and reading the blog's of people whom are truly suffering, just as a means of entertainment and escape from your own worthless and pathetic existence. I'll tell you what... I'll offer you the same courtesy as the person before you. Send me a message, and I'll give you my address... except this time, the end result will be far different, because you're clearly a spineless individual. So, this is how it will be. You come over to my house and I will beat you to death with my dick and we'll record it and post it on the Internet for other mindless fucking trolls, like yourself, so they can masturbate to your suffering for a change? How does that sound, punk-ass motherfucker? Fuck you. That's right... Fuck You!

Okay, I know that was a little on the intense side, but I just can't stand people that get off on the suffering of others and view their pain as a type of entertainment... at least serial killers have the conviction to cause that other person's suffering before they get off, ya know? It's all about manners. So there we have it... it's no secret what type of person I am or the lives I have lived. I've always been very forthcoming in sharing the pieces of my life and story with all of you. The real question is, what type of person are you? Do you have a moral compass and the power of conviction? Do you have a heart and the humanity to use it? There are some readers who have been very kind to me over the years and I want you to know that I appreciate each and every one of you. I don't know if I can learn how to be happy and healthy... I don't know if I can ever truly heal. But it is my hope that one day, I'll be able to see that I'm not alone in this void... that one day I can learn how to use my heart, just like some of you have used yours in kindness towards me.Thank you, my friends... thank you for listening and sharing this time together.

A World Within The Tree

The world, my world, has shifted... with the ground uneven and trembling, I find myself knelt before our tree. This tree, all it represents, the future and promise of tomorrow, has been my refuge and anchor in this world... a daily reminder of what flowed within, the blood, the breath, the light, all stemming from one source. Now it is but a shadow of what was, the tongue that tore it apart and unearthed it's roots from my heart... the salt from my eyes has poisoned the ground, and all that was is no more. Perhaps it is my limited understanding of what happened, the events that unfolded so quickly and the overly polite exits that followed. The reminder of what would always be, rather than what is... a clear precursor to the change that would immediately alter the relationship.Redefinition. Loss. Each word was in vain, every action was without hope... all I could do was watch as the door closed, as the tree became unearthed, choking on the tears that relentlessly fell upon the burnt ground. It was then, that this time I knew for certain that things were different... despite the promises and assurances, I knew those words were only spoken in kindness, not truth. The truth was something quite different, it was the dark I had feared coming... and how dark it was. For hours I wept uncontrollably, pleading with myself that the end had not yet settled in... that there could be a tomorrow, a purpose, some hope. But these things will never come, for they died at  the foot of tree... the one that sheltered us, listened quietly to our conversations, and wore our initials on her chest. When Tuesday met Friday, and how quickly he knew that he loved her... the kind of love that is only written about, and so rarely seen or felt. All this loss and sorrow, not even a day after I discovered our tree was a girl... just like the chair. Do you remember? How quickly we forget always...

The Earth Beneath Me

Once again, I have returned... it has been quite a long time since I have written and shared my thoughts, compulsions, or sorrows. Around the time of my last post, I had just returned to the world of addiction and slavery to the flesh, after having been sober for a great many years. To any of those hoping this addiction would have killed me by now and removed my delusional rantings from your lives, I sincerely apologize... please know that it hasn't been do to a lack of efforts on my part. I suppose I should be a more efficient drug addict and overdose within a more reasonable amount of time. Stay tuned... your wishes may be granted soon enough.

Lots of things have been happening and changing in my life... some things for the better, some for the worse, and some that just don't really seem to matter or change regardless of my surroundings and placement in this world. The earth is firmly beneath my feet, in the physical aspect, and quite honestly, I'm not quite sure how to feel about that. My depression has grown worse despite my efforts to both better my life and run away, like a frightened child, by self-medicating... some days are worse than others, but the desire to leave this world has remained a constant. Mentally speaking, the earth is nowhere to be found.... neither above me, nor below me, as I float around aimlessly in a state of constant delusions and hallucinations. After years of trying to survive in my environment, I packed my belongings are moved across the country, with my cat in tow, to my town of birth, where I am living completely alone in grandparent's old house... the have both passed on and I am living here in a caretaker capacity, oddly enough, when I can't even take care of myself. The good news to this situation is that I am no longer living in the abusive situation I was previously, and I no longer have to lock up every single thing I own in fear that it would be stolen from me. You would think this change in life would have lowered my stress immensely, but I suppose the other changes that came along with this decision, have sent a shock-wave of disruption throughout my life.I've had the challenge of learning how to live alone for the past 7 weeks now, and in all honesty, I am not doing a very good job. Trying to juggle the responsibilities of taking care of myself, the cat, and a home, all while being a drug addict has been extremely difficult. Most days I have no desire to even get out of bed, and if it wasn't for the painful and obnoxious withdrawal from the opiates, I wouldn't get out of bed at all. Each morning, I drag myself out of bed so that I can get my fix and then I sit, nodding away, at my desk... rinse repeat, rinse repeat. I'm not sure if it's the drug addiction or my inability to remember to do the common tasks of normal people, like eat at a scheduled time, but for some reason I've been losing a fair amount of weight rather quickly... 25lbs in the past 7 weeks. At first, I thought this was a good thing, seeing how I believe myself to be hideously fat and disgusting, but now I am not so sure... I suppose my feelings have turned to indifferent.

Am I happy, with myself and my new surroundings? Yes and no. Quite honestly, I don't want to be a drug addict and I'm really fucking pissed off for putting myself in this situation in the first place. I just couldn't handle the stress of my previous environment, and I needed a way to escape. Now that I've removed myself from there, I remain a slave to the opiates because I can't deal with the decisions I've made and the people I hurt when I left... I see those faces over and over again, haunting and taunting me, until I run to the nearest exit of self-medication. It's a vicious cycle... I use because I can't handle the stress, yet using is stressful. I do want to get sober again... in fact, I know this is something I must do rather soon. The problem is I don't believe in myself enough to try... and even if I did, I would have to face those skeletons dancing in the closet. What would you do... do you even care?