Another Beginning.. Really?

Todays words are not about the memoirs of life that I see beyond the shutting of my eyelids. Today’s words are about freeing my frustration, anger and pure confusion. The indecisive part of my gemini a mere 21 days from my 32nd birthday, contemplating the go or the stay of my current life. I really am grasping at straws this time. Usually I understand their is promise for the future, there a reasonable reason to look over at the things that I have acquired and just throw them away, just sell them to stranger so I can pack lite bags and hit the road. There was drug use and addictions in my past so up and going, constant turmoil and reason for adventure was apart of my lifestyle, apart of my daily going, I would be inspired to write my moments of clarity and the truth about the world and the grand schemes of change, Yet there is none of that now. 8 months ago I left the coastal sunny city of Los Angeles, my home. Many can’t say that LA is there home, but it was mine. I was raised in the urban extremes of South Central Los Angeles, but before puberty had a good hold on me we moved into Westchester and the rest is a drum story of laughter, arguments, family detestation, and lost of belief in familial ties. The longer years ran fast and drugs and heart ache were added to my flourish of moments in the human experience. Yet 8 months ago I left with the idea that I would start a new life far away. ON the couch of my best friend I got a job, saved some money, loved my job, got my own place without nothing more than cigs and cheap champagne as my outlets. My pen became stale for there was no inspiring moments of depth. No drug induced hazes of brillance. Yet the look of change felt good on my back, Yet that sun would stop shining this past sunday when I lost the job I loved and I feel lost and angry and ready to at least return to the coastal city of sunshine for at least that. The warm sun, the lost memories and the family that barely called during my eight months of rehabilitative behavior. Old friend had reappeared and some old friends seem further away. Yet here I am on the 1st of May with no money for rent, just the last check I was paid soothing my pockets of fear of homelessness once again.  It’s a bittersweet journey returning home less than a year later. Pounds of fat packed against my  bones, a bad foot, and detiorating health and again no income, no job, yet possibilities still run with ailments and the day I wake up… is another to look at this as positive. A man in my life said to stay, that he cares, but no love escaped his lips and even when love was there I had been here before making family of those around me… mine still absent. Yet here it is… Another beginning, and I can’t help but let my head fall back eyes closed with God in my thoughts… REALLY GOD, again.. what did I do this time.. I thought it was all going to work out. No drugs, no negative on my tongue, no disdain in my heart, nothing but hope and faithfulness to the beginning I had just recently begun. Now its mid day on the day the rent is due and I have nothing. No job.. they dismissed me for evidence of my past. I know now that it will all have to be erased away in order for future of stability to follow. No love bounds my heart this time, no hope covers the truth of reality.. Something in me is different, that part of me that said lets move forward I think left with my mobility and the part of me that believed in possibility seems to have faded away with the right choices. I am going home again I think, still my mind sways unable to make the decisions. Yet everything is pulling me there. The best of me and the worst of me wants to go home. I would have stayed here for that job that gave me joy and stole my desire to do this, to write down my most deepest and sincerest emotional ties. When it comes back to these moments I realize that I don’t know whats coming.. nor do I understand why its happening. I suppose this is another day one… just happens to be the month I was born. God I won’t leave you now but I am not feeling so strong. Seems more purpose fuels me as my fingertips brush my keys.. and I look down at these things that I have had that have been consistent, my  breaking bad lap top, my thoughts and My desire to write it out.

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