A Culmination of Everything

New year's morning was insanity. My head crumbled. Like the hardened shell of a magma tube collapsing.

I got home at 3:45 from a Boston excursion and went inside to grab a cigarette so I could have a nice evening walk. I wanted to lightly and aimlessly think about things and it was the perfect time.

[Despite all the New Years hype I have just never been able to get into the Holiday. I have trouble attaching significance to something that is not set by me. It's almost like the changes in my life should be catering to the coming and passing of the New Year when in reality it's just a date for me. It would be a complete and utter lie if I said with the closing of the year I can reflect back and draw solid conclusions up to this point. I can look back but where did the changes begin? Where did they come? When did they end? Can they end? Whatever. January 1st is just a day for me (personally obviously).]

So I went back outside and walked down the street, far enough so my parents would not experience the disappointment and sorrow of watching their son do what every child is taught not to do. I lit it and walked quickly down the street because it was cold. I walked and I saw the black house windows. I could almost feel their owners sleeping: imagine them all quietly dreaming of an optimistic new 365 days. I walked around the culdesac and headed down the street.

I love walking down the middle of the street. Sometimes I wonder if it's because I feel strong or brave or some stupid shit. But don't forget it was 4:15 in the morning.

The farther I walked down the street or my cigarette or my sense the smaller I felt. Not because of guilt. In fact it felt like the opposite of guilt. It felt like I understood so much. "Like I was shot with a diamond bullet right through my forehead." And I hated it despite how important it felt.

I stopped and finished before I came in sight of my house and stared at the huge Pine Trees at the end of the street.

I went inside and pressed my back against the door and looked around at the scenery of my house's interior. It was like a green screen with superimposed flashy images, intentionally dark. I felt like I was coming home to a movie set.

I walked upstairs and looked in the mirror. I'm too tall for the mirror in my room so all I could see was the neck down.

I sat down on my bed and wrote the poem posted below on three flashcards that were on my nightstand without crossing out a single word.

Over the past few nights I've had a lot of trouble with this post. I don't understand what was happening to my head. I apologize that this post was some weird maybe depressing narration. If I could express or remember or care to pinpoint everything I discovered in those twenty five minutes I could and entire novel. A whole philosophy or a religion. It may have been dull but there isn't an ounce of bullshit in this whole post. There are huge gaping holes it where I simply can't describe how I felt or what was going on. But I've never felt so hopeless. I didn't want to touch anything. It seems like it was an anti-epiphany. The opposite of enlightenment. It was like a child sneaking into his father's study to surprise him and finding him fucking the babysitter. I sat and stared in the dark for what seemed like hours.

And I woke up and turned my head back around.

I praise you if you got through this whole post.

Call this post lame or cliche or boring but don't call it bullshit.