Memoirs from a Damaged Heart
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. It seems that I get to be the bug for the windshield of life on a daily, if not hourly basis, and it appears to be a permanent condition. I have experience enough of this in my life to be able to say with an expert opinion that the experience is neither pleasant, nor satisfying. The only benefit seems to be that it has been painful enough to keep me aware that I am alive, and I am sure of this because hell couldn’t be this bad. That is an observation and opinion based on the fact that at least in hell, it can’t get any worse, but still kicking around here on earth, you could get a new kick in the balls at any time, and I always do. When the situation takes a turn from the regular grind of knives in the back, stilettos in the heart, and good sharp stakes in the eye, you get the old faithful kick in the balls. On that rare occasion when the kick in the balls doesn’t come, it’s only because the kick in the head is on its way, and it really wants a clear shot. To be honest, the kicks, bites, stabs, stomps and various other injuries are not as bad as the shear terror that something new and unseen before is about to descend on me. I found the time to expect that kind of thing is right after something that seems good has happened, or that news travels to me that it is about to happen. Living in pain is one thing; living in fear has shown me that it can always be taken to an all new level.
Fear that never goes away is the most dehabilitating thing this cruel world has to offer a mortal man like me. It is the one thing that all evil, all hate, and all pain lives on, feeds from and grows with. Overcoming the fear to find hope is the only potential for any happiness is the optimists cry, but I have found that pitfall the most painful, sarcastically cruel, and life damning of all. The mere presence of hope appears to draw catastrophe and its allies, despair, and defeat. There is no rock you can hide under, no armor you can wear, and certainly no friend that can help protect you from it, or soften the blow. That rock will smash you, the armor will trap you, and that friend, well they will be the one to unleash the new flames of hell on you because that’s how it can hurt you even more, by coming at you thru the ones you count on or care about.
Make no mistake, there is happiness, great happiness out there, it is just not meant for me, or those like me who are trapped in this world to be its human targets and empty cans for others to kick around. So as I crash thru this unkind world, it would be smart for you to keep an eye out for me. I may be a little too close to you when the next bomb drops and you could be caught in the blast. Don’t worry; it won’t kill me, that would be too kind. I will just get the usual dose of injuries that are my lot to bear, and that little extra that will catch me in the tender spot as I try to get back up. Get back up I will, because we all know, everyone wants to take a shot at you when you’re down and I don’t need any extra shots. I’ve taken enough for a whole country to get a free pass. So sit back and watch the show, and don’t worry, I don’t expect you to help, it would just be another avenue for punishment. If you do get the opportunity to see it all happen, it would be nice to get a hearty salute to show you understand what is happening, just be aware that I may not have the chance to thank you for it before I get the next low blow. We both will know that it’s coming, and it will be just enough to keep me from giving you a heart salute or any other type of acknowedgement. Don’t be angry with me, just know your gesture was appreciated, and more than I usually get. But enough of that, lets get on with the show. The show, the comedy, or tragedy that is my life. Maybe it is both, maybe its neither, but it is what you came for…right??