Every angle of monotony has extremes it seems

Sitting here at a coffee table on the patio of starbucks, taking the time to absorb life a bit away from everything else except for open air and nothing involving the usual… I reminesce about the past present and future.  So this is a virtual release which I find a notepad never works for since I push it aside and forget it.

With a cup of coffee I ponder just what has happened for the last 1 1/4 years.  Eyes closed and thinking just how the paths reside, how items occur and why everything comes so dangeruosly close in times to your darkest fears intertwined.  Pupils dilate, feeling the body sigh in remission for a slight second.  Before, nearly at the point of life’s pinnacle, 33 years old with a career deemed recreational,  a purchased house and everything after work to strike your imagination on fire.  Pure utopia, gone awry in a single stark moment waking up with segments of your body in pieces and doctors assuring your life will never be the same… borderline assured negativity on mass medication.  Athletics were my life before… for life itself, to explore and feel nature in it’s purest forms… without anyone else but myself around inside of me.
Amazing how a flick from an older movie can almost perpetuate your life, nurses causing pains to your body many times daily without even a hand to assure as your wondering  what tomorrow will hold, and when you will be able to leave to run, to run from everything and be yourself again… hearing only the screams in your head and the feel of you controlling the most important piece… your body and your life.
Looking down seeing what words are never spoken about except for a nurse performing wrapping changes.   I’ve always been a strong person… age has taught me how through the many events.  Now is the most trying and debilitating, making me realize the full world of a soldier returning home with outside expectations so high.  The ground rises fast when you have no support, and even faster when weight pushes you down.  Atlas must have been a strong man, and even15 months later it can bring a tear to your eye as you relive the moment that steered life.

Everyone says to release the bad and never let it destroy you, but some things are stark realities and as hard to drop as rape itself.  At 34, losing everything in life ever loved in the blink of an eye, and clawing to become what you’ve dreamed and become once before… never any direction in any way. (includeing Prosthetics, except for my Prosthetist Dennis Leal who has guided me more than anyone)

Memories are missing because of blunt head trauma, beautiful memories are being relearned only by sometimes derogatorily ended conversations and pictures.  Sometimes I do feel most would have off’ed themselves by now.  After such an ordeal, becoming everything you’ve ever hated in life is only the last step before you’ve given up completely.  When will people understand this, and honestly spend a true second to hold you instead of telling you what to do to improve things… always things you have tried and failed, or are next to impossible do to technicalities learned while you tried.

The want is there… sparked in the mind.  I want myself back, and I can smell it.  Maybe sometime i will find the right rhythm to make the world in tune again… or find a hole to play a game and never worry about the rest of the people who weigh your shoulders as they  assume their philanthropy.

Above all, silence is golden, and just a hand extended makes the world brighter than a million stars.

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