I hope your weekend is going well. Mine is typical: Wake up, take meds, pass time, sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. I’m alone now. The kids went to Jay’s band practice. They have a few gigs lined up in the near future. I’m happy for them. I hope it all works out and they can gig regularly in the area. Who knows? I think they’re talented enough. Next, the right people need to see them. That’s all the music business is; a series of fortunate encounters with the right people. If anyone can swing that one, it’s Jay. He’s the luckiest person I know.
The sun doesn’t want to set this evening. Its light is white, even as night draws near. I don’t particularly care for the sun. It seems quite greedy to me. That’s why the night has to fall in the way that it does…it simply cannot fight the sun when it comes to sharing the stage, as it were. I’m certain that the night has grown, long since, weary of the whole endeavor. I think we’re fortunate to see night come ’round at all these days. We should be more grateful of the night and the refuge it offers. Especially those of us who have so much that needs to remain in shadows, deep, lest we be forced to confront the Uglies and whatsuch.
Pray tell, good Doc, do you see that I’m getting any better? I’m not so sure of that, myself. I feel as though the weight of the world is hanging over me. Yes, I know…poor, poor, me…sigh…Nonetheless, I do imagine that, if things don’t change, I will have to put an end to this mess of a life. It’s terribly drawn out, it seems. Nothing I do is able to change that. No, I am not saying exactly what you might think. I am saying that, when time comes, time comes. I hope you can understand.
I suppose I’ll go work on the house a bit. It’s looking absolutely charming! It reminds me of one of those country cabins you see in magazines. I’m fortunate to have had so much to work with, aside from money, since I’m on a choker of a budget.
When I read back to myself what I’ve written to you, I often feel a sense of shame, Doc. I come off as vain and narcissistic. Nothing could be further from the truth, where I’m concerned. If I’ve ever felt worthy, in the slightest, it was on my daddy’s lap as he let me inspect his beard in my ceaseless effort to understand where it sprang from. Nothing else in life has really matched that bit of egoiste.
I’ll also admit that, when I allude to doing myself in, I am also, then, ashamed, as I find it the highest form of arrogance. I’m aware that I did not give life to myself. Life is God given and should be sacred. Life is to be savored and enjoyed, even when you find life to be a tribulation, because not one second is lived in vain, and gratitude is in good order for that very reason. However, at times, I find that I am in such rebellion to my God and to life, itself, that I cannot imagine living another day. During those times, I feel that my existence is a testament to failure on God’s part, even though I know it is not. God doesn’t make mistakes. That is true as true can be. I suppose that it is mine to discover what manner of strange I am and to set about pursuing my life with a better outlook and with more gusto, in spite of what my mind tells me.
I don’t intend to seem disingenuous, Doc. I’ve known many who have ‘faked it till they made it’, so to speak. Perhaps that would be a wise pursuit for me. After all, I’ve been faking my whole life. Acting, I guess. Flawlessly. Until that thing happened; the thing of which I am loath to speak. It was the culmination of many things, as you know. I erupted, much as a volcano, and with as much force. I think my family was surprised that I had that in me, to be frank. Whatever the case may be, my life did change that very day and has not been the same, for even a moment, since.
Well, dear Doc…I’ve rambled on about myself long enough. Your pills allow me access to something in my head that feels like a ‘higher’ brain. I’m not sure what you’d call it, but I can feel the top of my actual brain after I take my medicine. It feels as though it works its way up, until, later in the day, it reaches the tippy top. Then, I feel magical. I feel beautiful. I feel. Normally, it doesn’t occur until bed. Usually, I’m numbed by the drugs I take. But there are days, Doc…Oh, there are days…