As Halloween approaches, it is a dark house with very little to be seen beyond the accusatory shadows and the questionable silhouettes. I have spent close to half a lifetime trying to escape reality and pretend that my delusions were on the verge of coming true. But this treatment has excised the dancing bears and the pink elephants, leaving me alone with an itchy rash on my body and very little of value to hold onto in the midst of this storm. It is not a fear of panic; it is just the understanding that there is no turning back and there is no turning my back on the questions and accusations lurking within.
A Start to Questions & Accusations; Observations on those Dreams
1) If the side effects do not improve and I continue to feel my sanity being ravaged by the itching, will I be able to successfully continue this treatment until the end? I have never been much when it comes to completion in my life; it is a negative quality that verges on human heresy by turning my back on the gift of taking the action to express my authenticity. When I was 12 years old and spendng the summer at Camp Cobbossee, our bunk counselor was a Tennessee Vol baseball player named Doug Lawry. At the end of the summer, he gave each of us a picture of himself hitting a home run with an inscription on the back. My inscription quoted my favorite lines that I had read in an Archie comic book that summer: A Winner Never Quits, A Quitter Never Wins. Whether from Vince Lombardi or Archie, it remains a pertinent cliche for me today.
How Do I Differentiate Between The Question Marks And The Crucible? |
A Start to Questions & Accusations; Observations on those Dreams
1) If the side effects do not improve and I continue to feel my sanity being ravaged by the itching, will I be able to successfully continue this treatment until the end? I have never been much when it comes to completion in my life; it is a negative quality that verges on human heresy by turning my back on the gift of taking the action to express my authenticity. When I was 12 years old and spendng the summer at Camp Cobbossee, our bunk counselor was a Tennessee Vol baseball player named Doug Lawry. At the end of the summer, he gave each of us a picture of himself hitting a home run with an inscription on the back. My inscription quoted my favorite lines that I had read in an Archie comic book that summer: A Winner Never Quits, A Quitter Never Wins. Whether from Vince Lombardi or Archie, it remains a pertinent cliche for me today.
Can I Stop Quitting, Surrender My Bullshit, And Join The Winning Side? |
2) Since I always embraced the dream that I would be loved in my life and that I would meet the woman who would be my true partner in this life, will this vision come true or am I just fooling myself? Right now, as I sit in the Bourgeois Pig in Hollywood, I am surrounded by beautiful young women, and I am old enough to a father to well over half of them. Still, as I sink into the morass of a dirty middle-aged man, I am still attracted to young women and I still harbor the fantasy. Can I afford to do this anymore? Right now, I feel so unattractive, despite the fact that the rash is covered up by my smothering long-sleeve shirt and these scratchy blue jeans. Although I dream of having the passion and conviction of Pepe Le Pew without the vast delusion, I wonder what I still have to offer. Although there is a certain freedom in my failure, there are unblinking consequences as well. Even when I decide to date a woman my own age or close to my own age, what do I really have to offer? Will I be loved again?
Can my passion be ignited again beyond the silly danger of delusion? |
3) If I truly have accepted the failure of my life and abandoned those Hollywood dreams, can I move forward without the weight of regret and discover the freedom offered by such a surrender? Boy, this is a hard question to answer and an even harder reality to face. The only reason I have been able to do it is because I have been stripped down to the bare bones by this treatment and these side effects. It doesn't seem like my bullshit works anymore, and how I miss my casual belief in those sparkling delusions. Still in the popular culture and particularly about a dozen years ago, the definition of excellence realized was the basketball prowess of Michael Jordan. Considered the greatest basketball player of all time, Michael Jordan expressed how intimately connected his success was connected to his failures. By failing over and over again but continuing to believe in himself and work hard with a sense of determination, he created his phenomenal success. Mind you, I understand that Michael Jordan is a flawed human being with failings on and off the court, but isn't that the very point to be embraced. If I accept my failures while maintaining my faith in myself, everything will be okay. Not necessarily wonderful, but a-okay with moments of beauty and creation in between the itches.
The Bridge Between Failure and Success is Determination and Belief |
More to come tomorrow, but that is all for tonight. My arms and legs are itching like crazy and my concentration flags because I cannot seem to push it beneath the surface of this consciousness.