Friday, August 30, 2019

Poem #52

Poem 52

Post-it notes and chicken scratches


Browsing through the internet
Seeing patterns of words and colors
Looking for a deeper meaning
But in the end it’s all nonsense

Having conversations with others
While giving unwanted two cents
Trying to listen, remembering to shut up
They are the focus and not me

Now I write poems at 0 – 3
Turning nonsense into rhyme
I miss old company but they are bad
A worse version of me – they’d probably be laughing if they read this:

Hahaha!

A laugh elevates the heart
But when it’s over sorrow returns
And a smile and grin die
A rapper and an accidental overdose

Tragic and awful but nothing new
Celebrities are depressed and blue
But look at us and look at you
We’re no different

Humans, we are, all of the same kind
Reading nonsense and poems
Looking for the meaning and purpose
But truly I tell, sometimes there is none

And that is okay
That is ok
Hang it up and post it
But don’t scratch it

_ _ _

Pain-level: 3
Currently reading: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Currently listening: Lil Peep

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Tuesday, August 27, 2019

Coming Full Circle - A Return to Austin

Friday, August 23rd

I'm back in Austin, Texas -

A place originally intended for new beginnings is now a reminder of death.

This trip will perhaps be one of the final pivotal moments in my recovery. Although I am still due for multiple surgeries and appointments with various therapists, coming here gives me an opportunity to see back into my life and the thought processes that eventually led me into a downward spiral of madness.



My mother and I arrived last night in San Antonio just short of midnight.

The weather was hot and humid and the wind in the air was thick and encroaching. 

During our flight I claimed the passenger seat next to the window. It always fascinated me to see down into the passing neighboring cities. The little lights like small bits of diamonds scattered across a massive geographical region forming all types of shapes - rectangles, squares, hexagons and triangles all lay beneath me. 

We check-in at our lodge and peacefully settle into the night. My mother snores, but thankfully tonight the fluffy pillows and cushions silenced her croaking.

...

Nightmares - Succubus 

-- 

Saturday, August 24th

Awake

11:00a.m.

It's time to prepare our way back to the music capitol of the country.

Greyhound it is! 

Another two hours on the road giving me more time spacing out the window catching familiar sites. 

Daydreaming. Reminiscing. Praying.

Waiting...

At last, here at last! Checked-in, settled in and hopeful for inner healing. 

My mom and I decided after a long day and a half of traveling that we would stay-in and have dinner at the in-house restaurant. In one of the conference rooms was a gathering: Hispanic Women Empowerment night. Loud music, high heels clanking and ladies shouting. 50's was the theme!  

Yep, this is Austin alright!

Other than the fine Hispanic ladies belting out in drunken laughter, the night in Austin was relatively quiet. 

"Strange," I thought. 

This is not what I remember of a Saturday night downtown.

...

We sat down and I immediately noticed in the restaurant was another party present. A party of six. One of the restaurant patrons looked peculiar. I think it was a...trans-female. 

I get confused with all the gender identifications and swapping, but I'm almost certain this female was a dude. 

Yep, this is definitively Austin! 

Mom and I ordered some Texas fried pickles to start. 

I wore my red - Make Austin Weird Again (MAWA) - hat all day. Usually, a lot of people stare at me, but surprisingly not so much today. Maybe in Texas there's more appreciation for patriotism or maybe people don't really care all that much like the media would like us to think. Who knows?

Tomorrow I'm going to visit a church I used to go to before my incident.

The pastor there has asked me to share my testimony.


Sunday, August 25th

9:00a.m.

Pastor Melvin picks us up and we head over to the Grace Place on East Annie.

This morning was nothing short of special.

I got to see old church friends and three Marines who I served with drove up to see me.

Bolton, Cervantes and Silva - thank you guys.

The sermon was about redemption and Pastor Melvin saw it fit that I close the sermon with my testimony.

I was honored that he asked me to share, but nervous. Although I had grown up in the church and had heard many people give their "testimonies" over the years, I never actually thought about my own. It occurred to me that I didn't have one and so I decided a couple of weeks prior that I would dig deep and ask myself the question, "What is my testimony?"

To give a testimony means to give an account of something; to testify. To be a witness of an event. Usually, when a testimony is given it chronicles the life of someone before Christ, and after Christ. Most always, it tells the tale of a life before repentance and the renewed life following conversion. Through deep reflection and prayer, I had come to terms with my past and revealed to the listening ears that before I lit myself on fire, I was not a Christian.



It was by all accounts, a public apology to my friends, family and church. I covered it all! I admitted to my depravity, to my double-life and my fall into the abyss of Hell and madness: Drugs, alcohol, pornography, violence, sex, self-harm and eventually, attempted suicide. I WAS NOT A CHRISTIAN! I WAS A FRAUD!

Generally, I loved speaking before a crowd. I mean, come on, I used to be an actor for crying out loud. I love the attention, but this was different. I was wrong. I had been wrong and I so desperately needed help, but I did not have the courage to seek it out because I was blinded by anger. Pleasure and escapism was my way of masking the pain. Masturbating became a way to avoid feeling alone and hurt. Me! Me! Me! I burnt bridges and crushed the souls of my neighbors and their wives. I was sick!

It's hard to admit you were wrong. It's even harder to take responsibility for one's actions.

God allowed it.

My ego was destroyed and my flesh burned. The monster within came to surface. The sinner exposed in its most tragic form. I was beautifully wrong!

It is because of God that I am alive today.

It was on this day, April 16th, 2018, that I became a born-again Xhristian.

That will be the story I tell until I die on His time.


_ _ _

Pain-level: 4
Currently reading: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Currently listening: Clair de Lune (Extended) via Youtube
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Mystery-link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfmyl8I_bxU

Mystery-link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXwGh3bdF5k


















Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Poem #45

In His Eyes: The Vagabond and the Family Man


Inside a Volvo,
a bearded greasy man scans the interior of his home
Sand and dirt on the floor lay under his crusted hairy feet
behind his seat, boxes filled with old clothes and periodicals
ashtray filled with cigarettes and a couple of coffee cups nearby
Beatles playing softly, "Yesterday."
Disappointment and regret hang beneath his eyes
"I traveled far but oh, what a waste!"
Pain, so much of it, how does he dispose of it
Maybe a beer, maybe a joint
But let us not run from the point
Pain, suffering and loss
I traveled the world 
Because I'm running from her
I'm running from Truth
Save the Vagabond o' Lord...

A large silver SUV parks close

Next...

To the side he looks 
Mesmerized
Out of his eyes
He sees and captures

Inside a Mercedes-Benz
a handsome clean-cut man with his family
Black leather interior, GPS and TV on the back of seats
Chrome rims and tinted windows, but still he can see
the vagabond next to the family man out to eat with his team
Four children, a golden dog and a sizzling wife 
"Man, what a lucky guy, what a blessed life!"
The Vagabond shouted in his thoughts.
Look at me with nothing to show
And this man next to me living the dream
He worked hard and look at him now
An example to all and a life fulfilled.
The family man turned and caught his eye
The Vagabond

Frozen...

The family man with heavy bags under his eyes
He looks inside the Volvo and sees
Minimal stuff, but only necessary things
"Yesterday, that's my favorite song"
He thought and slowly reveals
A grin, a smile and subtly
Nods his head at the artist, traveler -- the Vagabond
The free spirit in his home and On the Road
"Oh how sweet, must be nice
No wife, no kids, no nothing
Freedom, what a life!"
The family man lowers his window,

FM: Great song!

V: One for the ages!

FM: You from around here?

V: No, I'm on the road.

FM: Where you headed?

V: I don't know. Maybe Iowa, maybe Canada...

FM: Man...Must be nice!

The vagabond looks around, inside his car. Shakes his head in disappointment.

V: It's alright...You're living the dream over there..

FM: It's not what it looks like, I'm in bondage. I rather be in the Volvo.

V: I rather be in the Benz.

The vagabond and family man laugh simultaneously.

One of the kids yell-out: Daddy, I'm hungry!

FM to the V: You're lucky!

V to the FM: You're blessed.

Together they laugh and smile.

_ _ _

Pain-level: 3
Currently listening: Conversations with God - the Windham Collection
Currently reading: My House of Lies by Lori Golden
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Mystery-link: https://www.carrienet.com/now-you-can-be-the-adult-in-your-life/
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@godsplan1989





Friday, August 2, 2019

Nearing the End of Summer

Nearing the End of Summer

"Finally!"
  
"Where have you been Michael?"
  
"What's the excuse now?"

ME: There is none!
...
...
 ...
- Friday, August 2nd, 2019

1:11

1311

Pacific Standard Time

VA Clinic - Mission Valley, California

15 minutes prior to 15 minutes prior to my appointment - while my laptop at home is on its last breath (2008 MacBook Pro!) - I decided to use the good old desktop computer at the workshop station before going into group therapy today.

"Dude, it's time to get a new computer!"

ME: I know right! I'm long overdue - like this blog entry.

Recently, I joined a group therapy class dedicated to writing "caring cards" for veterans transitioning out of the psychiatric unit. It's a Godsend! Every Friday, I meet with a small group of veterans, usually five or six dudes all from different eras (Vietnam War, Gulf, Operation Iraqi & Operation Enduring) who create small cards using art and other materials. Each card contains an encouraging message of hope. Sounds cute, but what many of you don't realize is that everyday 20 veterans take their own lives! I take this group seriously. Not only does it greatly impact me and my recovery, but it gives veterans the reassurance that they are not alone in the fight. While post-traumatic stress affects every individual differently, it is not prejudice against race, gender, or religious affiliation. Mental health is health, and so it is time to eliminate the stigma that we should stay silent and not ask for help. We should encourage a holistic way of taking care of ourselves, and that is why I am a part of this group. Like I said earlier, it's a Godsend.

1:20

1320
...
...
...

Unofficially, August is Men's History Month. Although not publicly recognized, this is a grass-roots movement to pay homage to the great men who have contributed to my success and ultimately, my survival.

I would like to publicly acknowledge Mr. Jonathan Black. I met Jon during my time in the Marine Corps. Jonathan Black is a Navy Chaplain and is currently serving to this day. He was my Chaplain and mentor and later, became my friend. He helped me in many ways both emotionally and spiritually and to this day continues with me on this journey of recovery.  His ability to bring people together from a mass of denominations is profound. Truly, I say, it is amazing what he does!
He is a husband, father of two, and a friend to many. My only regret is that we waited to long after my end-of-service to reconnect. Nevertheless, we are back in contact and hopefully, if the Lord is willing and the creek don't rise, we'll be having a reunion along with some other hobbits (inside joke) next year. I love you, man! Thanks for everything Black Man (another inside joke), God bless you and your family and again, thank you for your service.

#MensHistoryMonth #TrueMasculinity #WhatIsaMan
_ _ _

Pain-level: 3
Currently reading: Grateful American by Gary Sinise
Currently listening: Romance of the Violin by Joshua Bell
_ _ _

_ _ _

@godsplan1989