and everything was fine. and it was just like
old times. and we all smiled and laughed so
much. and i felt warm inside. and was given a
hug to say i love you, and i knew it was true.
and i am so sad that it will be forever again
until i feel the same.
Fires upon the road are a welcome relief. They provide comfort, nourishment, safety.
They cut back at the blackest of night and save lives.
But no matter how much their use is praised, people always move on from campfires. They are not part of people’s continuing journey, only a tool upon it, and they are left behind.
Stinging, choking, obscuring…
is a result of waste.
That which the fire is unable to consume because the fuel is not pure enough and the fire is not hot enough.
I am getting a lot of smoke in my life, I need purer fuel and a hotter flame.
Every time you break it, it is broken.
Since I started this path, I have begun to be aware that I am getting the things that I have wanted for a while. Mundane, run of the mill things I thought I would never have…
A good job, a relationship I could believe in, ordinary wants that somehow suddenly fell into my hands…
I got a stable loving relationship, with someone who would never really betray me. Something that wouldn’t end with boredom or anger, or a lazy meh.*
*that didn’t work out, and ended rather dramatically, but we are still friends.
I have now gotten myself an offer for a job in a good company with a good reputation that takes care of its employees and is a great base for a proper career that I can develop and eventually fund some travel dreams from.*
*I don’t think this will work out. I don’t think my abilities are up to the job, but I can’t afford to listen to self doubt at the moment. I can only deal with the consequences of not listening. I have no choice but to take the job. If this fucks up, it will also end dramatically, possibly with me again being on the verge of homelessness.
Hooray for opportunity!
But what I wanted was what I thought I should want. What I would accept after believing the world truly had no place in it for me and my ways and my heart.
And with those two things past or in my grasp well-lit, I can see only the other two shadows flickering and silhouetted not by the small mundane constricted hearth fire, but by a vast inner blaze … a completely different type of job, because despite the simple idealist dreams, this upcoming one is not good for me. And the desire for a deeper connection to a particular persons love, for they reckon me. And for these I think I might burn the world.
I wish I could go back to the old goth club under the railway arches. Walk in and be lost in the warm gloom of the smoke machine and deep satin melencholy of the music. Greeted by colours that do not sear the eye and passive faces uninterested in judgement. Just to dance, or drink quietly alone with no awkwardness.
It was a place of peace and belonging, a home of a sorts.
I could do with that strange serenity tonight.
But time is passed.
I am still putting one foot infront of the other, but it feels more like a crawl than a walk.
My current job is literally killing me. I walked out of the ridiculous negligence part way through shift on monday after being pushed entirely past my limit, when my limit wasn’t regularly breaking down in tears in the toilets, when my limit wasn’t having to call in sick for stress so much that I couldn’t afford to make rent, when my limit wasn’t when I was sat with a fucking knife in my hand in the kitchen wishing such a tool could actually help. I have to go back tomorrow and I don’t know how I am going to do it. I don’t know if I will. I will basically sign my own death warrant. I will be fired or I will hand in my resignation before I have another job and I won’t be able to afford to eat.
The other job I have prospectively got, leaves me much worse off financially, is much harder, more stressful and so much further away…. but people who can hack it and are of the right mindset and mettle seem to like it there.
But I can’t afford it. And I am useless under pressure because of the damage of my current job. I can’t even take pretend pressure in LARP as another person. I can’t even take the pressure of sitting in a dark place with a script and take may own time translating because that is too much for my broken brain to look at and see anything that isn’t beyond my reach.
I don’t know wtf I am going to do. I am at a dangerous crux. I am going to fall horribly and my arms will be broken.
I can’t even enjoy things at the moment. I can’t draw. I spent two days with a drawing project in mind, very simple thing, and could not even begin to start. Its like the soul has been withered and petrified and scraped out of me.
I am still trying to see this as a time of change, and opportunity to cut away the useless things, to reforge my strength in fire, to learn worthy lessons and make everything better in the end…. but I am very close to quickly heading to bad places I can’t get out of. And I look back and realise I’ve always been teetering on the edge of them, and have always been blindsidedly optimistic about my ability to smile.