on a holiday
a slot for the new year · 1/1







home


journal entry #23
random thoughts · 01/01

January, Sunday, Two thousand seventeen

perpetual state of misery kills the will to live. it boils down motivations until there's vapor left, disappearing within the crock of air that's stolen by pollutants of grief. where to be placed in the hub of it all, was somewhere in the middle of 2015. i've been pardoned here and there, working to find a place less consumed with in-house agitation that ran like a twenty-four hour news cycle. each other was something different. new but destructive. seductive and impure. blatant and lack of hindsight that followed.

2016 also had its fair share of turning tables but what it didn't have was a light at the end of a tunnel. a bright flashing headlight running on xenon bulbs right in front of my face baiting me in a direction never to be considered as an option. we're running multiple ones. some better than others. greater in the grand scheme of things and thinking singularly with the plight of most who have to focus on the stronger consciousness that having two bring.

dotting i's and t's crossed off with this while the escape in to Bahamian sanctuary warranted the reflective nature of a year, this point has brought me to another line. the start of another race without a finish line so early in sight. i worn out my welcome within certain circles. carved out a place with a new one, including a couple of misfits who don't know of their true lineage but afraid that they'll never be saved from it.

it's torture to know of their other life's past and how it finds its way to this world, is one thing my power cannot extend to. i'm no savior but when countered by the blinding truth that there's a place to become one, with improper ways of getting there, the question remains. do good for sake of second, third, fourth chances, or revert to what gets you paid? to what fulfills a sickness of power that's stronger than anything money can offer.

money can be the gateway to power and prop anyone up to do anything they fucking want but it's not just me i have to think about. it's not just my own interests i have to keep into consideration. selfishnesses has less of a home where being selfless is supposed to increase. where care and concerns are to be extended in ways when the same had been for myself. isn't that the ground basis of a partnership?

not only with he and i, but me and her. us and the family unit that stretches into strange territory that has the cautions thrown up in case anyone wanted to gut me where it counts. the weaknesses are prevalent now more than ever. including the underhanded fall of someone cherished than the words form quick enough to spew.

if fire is played with, a side given distance, or meddling in the affairs of kids, i'm certain attempts at my life will happen again. only knives won't be brandished this time. a different kind of death would be order but i can't call it when all i can think about is the next level. the next placement of where we're supposed to go as 2017 has all but what's known in store. there's been a better place but will it be great or peddle back to what was nearly two years in the making?

without seeing as far as i can when the chessboard is folded away at home, i'm left here with a few more days to make the most of this vacation that started out on a sour note, transitioning into something else entirely, and with making up to do. a house has to be in order, especially one where the shade of karma follows.