I've been telling people I'd write this for some time now, and I've decided to sit down and speak my mind on some things I've been brooding about for a while. I'm not sure where to start from. I think I'll start with the easiest for me to talk about.
Do you have any idea what it's like to constantly feel confined? Chained and locked deep within yourself? Of course you don't. At least, not like this. I'm writhing in my chains, trying to gain an inch to breathe, and I'm doing nothing but trapping myself deeper in the quick-sand that fills the room.
Christina showed me something a friend of hers wrote, and I'm now very interested in meeting this person. They've articulated what I chose not to. I guess I just figured nobody knew what I meant, and I couldn't express it well enough for them to understand. Maybe I should have tried, but it makes little difference now. I think this is just about as well as it can be translated into words..
"I have this strange entity in me. It's me, but it feels like a much darker or much lighter me; brooding in the depths, but not breaking the surface. It yearns to break free, an inscrutiable emotion that I can't get ahold of; it's like a color that isn't part of the millionfold color spectrum...
It's that same force that stirs a desire in me to just take off running; not caring where I go or why I'm going...just go. Run against the wind, taunt the thunder, follow that sunset of molten gold. Just run."
There is but one key difference between this person and myself. I feel like escaping, yes, but not through running. I feel like escaping by utterly obliterating everything in my path so that the road is clear for me to just leave. I do not wish for death. I do not wish to murder. I do not wish to cause pain, suffering, hurt. I do not wish to leave behind who I am or those I know. I only wish for destruction; total oblivion of whatever stands in my way.
I, too, have a being deep within. He is myself, but he is a far greater me. Darker or lighter; it makes no difference. He is better. He is trapped. He is my strength, and I can't find him. It is not that this being is lost, but rather that I can not grasp the handle to the door of his shelter; his prison.
He calls to me sometimes. A voice without a voice. Or maybe it's just that I can't understand the words? He wants to be free. The emotion that accompanies the message is enough to tell me that. He wants to be used. Lightning in a bottle; He wants to be utilized.
I have not ignored his pleas. I have tried time and again.
Do you understand how frustrating it is to feel pure power in it's rawest form flowing through every vein, but not being able to release it? It gets to that last step, the last spoke in a ladder, and fails to find freedom. Why? Why is it that my body is my own jail cell? I'm tired of walking into a wall where there should be a doorway.
I don't know how to bring about my change. The culmination of myself; The two parts made one. I can't for the life of me find a way to open that door. I sit here half of what I am, and that troubles me so. I have planned to train myself. In body, mind, and spirit, but will that honestly help? Do I have any control over when I am to become whole? I used to think I had the key, but what good is a key when I can't find a keyhole?
There are few who could help me, and none know the way. I'm not even sure if any of them would take the time to learn, either. I don't doubt they might try, but thus far I have yet to see the dedication it would take. They're too busy with their own lives. I can't really blame them. They know not what goes on within me. They can't feel this constant ability; potential beneath the surface just waiting to burst. So why should they even consider it? No, I fear this I have to do by myself.
A selfish man might keep what he has learned to himself, once he's learned it. If I allowed myself to be bitter, I would say that it's what should be done. Why give away something for nothing? Especially when it is a gift that nothing could ever pay for.
However, I am not typically a selfish character. I will teach what I have learned when I learn it, despite getting absolutely nothing in return. I am not a doormat, but neither am I greedy. I could go on this subject for days straight of writing, but for those reading..
I will spare you that. But know this: Once I have spent my sweat and blood snapping chains and clawing through doors, I will teach you, and you can learn with the knowledge that you will not be obliged nor expected to lift a finger in thanks. I say this not to provoke an act of thanks, or to gather pity for a generous soul. I say this because I want you to know that even if you never do me a single favor, I won't ever stop keeping your lives held in higher regard than mine.
*laughs darkly* What a contradiction. A being designed to destroy, yet compassionate towards quite destructable creatures. And now I find myself drowning in a sea of my own emotions. The need to protect. Some more than others, but the need is still there. How disconcerting to be kept from the strength that could do it. I'm far too lost now to carry on with this path of thought. Maybe I'll visit here again when I have more of a mind to explain the unexplainable to a deaf crowd. I can only think of maybe two or three people who might be able to comprehend what I've said.
Now, moving on to a tougher subject for me to discuss. I don't care how depressed this sounds. I'm not depressed, and neither am I really looking for condolences. I only want someone to listen me, and it was advised that I voice this here instead of just to a few people, so as to be heard by more than just a few.
Here recently I've found myself feeling quite a bit alone. Friends are there, as is family, but I'm lacking certain bonds. I haven't the bond of another, and that has lead me to realize that I've been missing another bond. The brother I never knew.
For those of you who don't know, one of my older brothers died in a car crash. He had just gotten home from the Navy. His first night home. On his way out of the party everyone threw for him, he said "Goodbye." Everyone stopped what they were doing and just stared. My brother never said goodbye. He said it was too final. He'd always say something like "See you later." Even he found it strange that he said Goodbye.
His car had been sitting in the garage the whole time he had been away, and he had planned to take it to a mechanic the next day. However, one of his buddies was drunk, and he refused to let him drive home, so he put him in the back seat of his car and left. On the way to his friend's house his brakes gave out on a hill, and he rolled out into traffic and was smashed into by a Semi (The 18-wheeler kind). The driver was, ironically, drunk. His friend, who was passed out in the back at this time, came flying forward and crushed my brother against the steering wheel. It broke his sternum. He died of internal bleeding on the way to the hospital. His name was Clint; He was only 19.
The cruel irony of it was that his job in the Navy gave him the life expectancy of 3 seconds, and he made it home. What are the chances he would die three miles away from home?
Apparently he and I were close. Before he left, we used to fall asleep on the couch together. He'd just lay down and I'd fall asleep on his chest after watching some Tv, and then he'd fall asleep, too. At the funeral, I tried crawling up into the caskett to sleep. I was two years old. I didn't comprehend death. Needless to say, everyone who wasn't crying at this point started to bawl. He had a lot of friends.
I hear stories all the time. Growing up, and even now. I grew up, in my younger years, in the same town he lived in. I met his best friends, and heard them talk about him. He was a great guy. He was the guy everyone knew they could go to, because no matter what was going on they knew he would do whatever he could to help, and often times he helped quite a bit. He knew what he believed in, and he fought for it. He had a strong moral code, and he didn't put up with bull. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you truly needed it.
Everyone in town knew him, and he had the trust of just about everyone.
I get told all the time that I'm just like him, and I can't possibly see how I could ever hold a candle to the man he was. That just makes me want to know him more. He would be someone I know that I could always turn to. My whole life I've had nothing but trial and error. I never had anybody to go to for any sort of advice. Girl troubles? I had to trudge my way through those without so much as a pointer. Questions of morality? I had to find and build my own sense of morals without so much as someone to bounce my ideas off of. So on and so forth. I'm sure most of you had to do some of this by yourself, too, but most of you had people to turn to for advice, and it was your choice whether or not you did.
Yes, I have another brother, Casey, and he's amazing, but he lives half the country away with his own family, and he's a very busy guy. He's the chief fireman of his county, and he works long hours. (He works at a smelting place, pouring white-hot liquid aluminum).
Clint would have been the one I would have had no doubt what-so-ever about watching my back. We would have been close.
But I've always been the one looking out for everyone else. Always the one picking you up when you fall. Always the one protecting everyone my ability allowed me to, and even when it didn't I'd still try. Always the fucking one. And who've I had to look out for me? Pick me up? Protect me? Not a damn soul. Oh, sure, parents carry that responsibility, but it's not the same. Parents only try to shelter you from pain. That's not what I need.
I feel like I've betrayed him by not remembering him. I know I was only two but he was my fucking brother for Christ's sake.
I can sit and talk to my parents about things, I know, but you just can't replicate a brotherly bond.
Is it strange to miss someone you've never known?
*let's out a deep breath*
I just don't know. If any of you are actually reading this and decide to comment, do me a favor. I wrote this for no one other than myself, to get some things off my mind, but if you wish to leave your thoughts, please address both halves of the entry. I'm feeling quite a bit lost.
Current Mood: Drifting.
Current Music: Underoath - I'm Content With Losing
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
