Sede Vacante

The light is on but no one is home.

Archive for change

Over the edge


It’s happened.  Finally.  I’ve snapped.  It’s like a roller coaster.  You creep up to the edge of the first drop, you hold your breath and wait for it.  When you tip over, it’s terrifying and glorious all at the same time.  It’s not much different from waking up one morning crying and realizing that you’re as good as dead and the only thing left to do is live.  It’s been a long time coming.  It feels like… coming home.

Like a roller coaster, there’s no stopping this now.  I’ve got to ride this out.  See where it takes me this time around.

I’ve got nothing left.  Nothing left that I’m not willing to burn away.  Yes, even love and friendship.  Simply because I know the fire only tempers these things.  I don’t do it for the sake of testing my relationships.  It’s just something that I need to go through.  I know it is just as testing for everyone else who cares as it is for me.

I’m irritable.  Impatient.  I’m also very sorry.  To a lot of people.  You’ll just have to understand.  This is something I need to do.  I need to find a place where I can be happy with myself.  Previously, I was comfortable with myself.  And that was a dangerous thing.  When you’re comfortable, you’re complacent.  You cease to grow.  You start to decay.  I don’t want any of that.

To the people I love, you guys already know me.  I’ll be back.  Eventually.  Keep a spot on the table for me, and light a joint in my name. 🙂  You guys can’t watch.  That’s part of the magic.  Even caterpillars hide in their chrysalis.  And yes, I just want to be a beautiful butterfly.

Insanity Beckons


Going insane.

It’s happening again. I admit, this is the longest spell of normalcy (or is it complacency?) that I’ve ever endured. Like the previous bouts, the strongest driver of this change is disgust. I’m disgusted with myself again. Sick of what I’ve become. Just the other night, someone asked me how I can possibly consider myself a failure considering what I’ve been able to do. Well, it’s simple really, if you’re not yet happy, then you’ve failed. There is no further discussion.

And so, like the Nietzschean drama that has been the story of my life, I find myself back where I began–complacent with the things around me, and disgusted at the things inside me. The dialectic continues, life goes on, but the actors change their roles, appearance, and motivations. Tyrants become slaves, lovers become strangers, and of course, the steadfast become chaotic and unstable.

A strangely enchanting girl once told me that a change of hairstyle usually marks a more profound inner change. I guess she must be right. At least there are some changes that I don’t will on my own. My hair is well on its way to leaving me forever. Perhaps its my last chance to finally let it touch my back and whip in the wind.

In terms of changes, I think that’s going to be the simplest and the least traumatic.

Don’t worry, I’ve done this all before. More than once. And I’d like to think that each molting has left me stronger, and wiser. Of course, each one also almost killed me. But we’re all going to die anyway–one thing that thankfully will never change.

(I know that I promised somewhere that this blog would never regress into some sort of journal of my pathetic unremarkable life. But Ronnie made me break that rule. It’s all your fault, dear.)