Sunday, October 30, 2005


In my dreams, they follow and become nightmares. No matter what activity or thought is at hand, the little bits of voices are always nearby. The sound of their torment ranges from small whispers predicting the next word in every conversation to a choir lamenting the loss of another moment to their song.

I don't fear much in life. Violence doesn't scare me: physical pain is a joke. Every instant feels like another, so I'm not as afraid of tomorrow as I was yesterday. The greatest fear in my life is their pursuit. For a long time, my hope hinged on peace in love, death, and understanding. With their accompaniment into my love and mangling of any understanding, only death seems safe. What leaves me cold and awake at night are not just the memories that never match, but the growing fear that when my time comes, they will follow. Every hour of every day, they remind me of their presence in some small way: as my past changes from a moment, to a memory, and to another dream, they follow and become nightmares.

1 comment:

Laurel Makepeace O'Keefe said...

I'm sorry thay you are still suffering so...
I think that you need to start writing regularly and putting it into a cohesive-publishable format, You also have a tremendous amount to give in terms of writing for causes-find one or two you feel strongly about and volunteer as a virtual volunteer-which means you can do so from your home on your computer. And I now that you feel stronly about telling all on this blog but as an intelligent man you must also know that telling everybody everything up front isnt neccesary or always prudent, for your own sake-you are trying to be accepted by folks you havnt built anything with, via deluging them with the worst about you. take it slower with people and stop writing about the demons for awhile I believe you are giving them power-ie giving your disease more and more powwer with the constant reaffirmation of all that is different and scary and utterly unblovable(from your own words) about you.
It sure doesnt seem to work in alleviating your pain-writing about the sickenss in all of its gory details...many of us hide the sick the scared parts of ourselves, in order to just get through the day, one day at a time until those days become our lives. At some point youve got to ask yourslef, are you not asking for too much from people, laying it all to bare the absolute worst of you, in your own opinion-which is by self admission not clear headed all the time-try pretending you are not as sick as you believe, and at the same time venture into a new start with anything that will give you gratification.your writing just seemed the logical choice to me above, because you are so talented and others will connect with you-if you dont scare them away with your "honesty"
think about it...and be okay for today knowing that someone out there does care.