controlled crash

33

May 3 by The Running Son

I could barely come to the keyboard so as I don’t make people wory.

It was this morning pacific time that 1writeway told me I might crash and it’s just hard to know what to say. Just got off a business email with Jennifer writingsofamrs braggin g about how much energy I had and then, just gone.

how ever high I got, I swung low. The poem “eye poem” was strange territory for me. I felt I had been offering sacrifices on every alter I could steal in to. I felt like I saw something new and it scares me, I can hardly write.

Bi-Polar is everywhere. In two people missing each other. In a bleached gravatar, like the distance two people really are. Like a blog with a sensible library and a hot-house lush red district secret encrypted bunch of poems, that fall together then mean nothing.

I’ts there in a Boy Scout stoned at his Eagle award ceremony, and it’s there when you write articles like a scholar but with no school. It’s there by acting like the shit, in your head at least, then finding out how much it hurts you. Your pride. My ego acting like it don’t care if poems that hold such delicate parts of me fall into oblivion, into queue until I forget I feel, or felt.

Yes it feels like a dream. I have enough of a time pinching and wielding language for the simple things, like “this is how I feel” not to mention how I really feel. Like I don’t know if I can do this. This blog gone bi-polar again and for the moment doesn’t make any sense, except it’s a more limited language than language is. That doesn’t help.

One side of me is screaming out to my dad not to go before he sees me, or talks to me, but then I can’t handle enough to pick up the phone and call. Blame it on bi-polar ptsd depression god dammit all. Blame it on life and blind human separation from levity and tolerance and looking for beauty even when the world seems like an empty set, a no-meaning, non-sense and incomprehensible like some causal set of silences got together to keep each other cold for the bestial end of the world.

Oh jesus. I want to say Thanks for all HH and I will get to read your posts on Icarus.

The SymbolReaders, carrie, you’re inspirational. I need to rest. I don’t know how to do this. But I have to day don’t worry. I just have a raging headache and unfamiliar sadness and existential pain. A bi-polar identity puzzle that I can’t work into a crafted relic.

2 cats. An ex with her life I wish I could help, my dog, no job or career or success or friends that I can talk to then the ground opens and there is nothing to protect you from the immensity of it.

I am Ok. Gonna sleep. And eat. Not worry about fathers, or loneliness or the shortness of life or C, who was in the psychiatric hospital last week? damn I love you baby.

It’s too fucking hard when you can’t hold it all in. I was going to explode 2 hours ago and now 3 letter questions make sense like why?

I hope I’m forgiven for this rant. It came out like lumpy milk. but noo better reality than a rant. if capturing reality, and seeing it is what it’s all about.

~Jim

PS: See you soon.

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33 thoughts on “controlled crash

  1. fibee5 says:

    I am glad people can rant and let their feelings out. I know I often use my poems as a way to try express what i find so hard to explain; how i feel.Hope you are doing much better by now 🙂

    • Hello. I am doing 100% better, thank you. It had been almost a few months, and I can look back and honestly say that writing poetry through my depression episode was very therapeutic. The best to you, and thank you for reading!

      Jim

  2. Villanueva says:

    Hi Jim hope things there are doing great 🙂

    regards,

    chris from the Philippines/Saudi Arabia 🙂

  3. […] a lifetime •poem: when i see you in heaven •Poem: an introduction •Poem: eye-poem •crash •controlled-crash •poetry is for the soul food is for the body •the girl across the sea •crash-happens •poem: […]

  4. 1WriteWay says:

    Jim, I hope you don’t think I was trying to censor you when I wrote that I was worried. I’ve seen friends go through crashes and I would feel so helpless. But I would rather hear you rant on online than not hear you at all. All this writing, this connecting with others, is good for you and us, your readers, people who in a very short time have come to care about you. People who value your vision from whatever direction you send it. ~ Marie

    • been thinking about you marie. I’ll be honest, it’s almost prophetic what you said yesterday morning, was it? Anyway, it happened. And I told myself I need to write.. like capture it. then it just came. I haven’t gone back into anything but the poetry yet, but I like the poetry. Never wrote like this. Symbols and interconnections going on right now, able to come out… it’s beyond words.

      I’ve always held a myth that all women with dazzling silver hair were wise. You didn’t prove it wrong. 😉

  5. I am still here and still offering to listen if you need or want to chat. That’s what people who care for you do. Or, you can feel free to tell me to buzz off; in which case, I’ll still be here and still willing to listen, because that’s what someone would do when they care for you.

    • Damn. It’s not fair to you or anyone for me to go thru this online. Thanks bmt for everything. It’s funny. You get to my poems so fast… and I edit and perfect them after publishing so much, I doubt you’ve ever read one in it’s completed state! Thanks for being the first always to show up when I publish. Sorry it had to reflect so much pain and darkness tonight.

      • I’m just thankful you’re okay. I messaged another blogger in error thinking it was you; which makes me a whole lot embarrassed, not that the message was anything too much, but am left confused, I don’t know if that blogger was sad too and I should have reached out. I don’t know how I did it, but I did it. I was concerned and this blogger was concerned for you too and somehow I ended up messaging them. I’d spent a few scary hours in the hospital last night, and then found on my computer that you were upset, so I think I must have been just a little too pooped. What a night. In any case, blessings on your day and to your friend too.

    • back and feeling pretty ok. I dont know what to say except that your concern means everything. I am glad to be getting to know you. 😉

  6. I am listening. You’re never alone. Vent away!

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RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

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