Wings

Standing on the narrow window ledge looking down to the cement below, I feel a strange relief.  All that's left to do at this point is leap. The dying Queen city is quiet, most folks asleep in this slow place. Only the occasional sweep of lights float past as someone heads home from the last drink at the bar, or from closing up one of the office buildings. I imagine their weary eyes would never notice me here, nine floors up. Most of them honestly could never imagine living so far from the ground. Yet here I am, standing on the thin stone ledge my toes sticking out into the nothing before me.

I close my eyes inhaling deeply. Even so high, the smell of the fall leaves throughout the area fills my senses. I imagine if I looked out past the grey crumbling buildings I could see the orange tree tops at Tift Farms. But I don't bother to look. Instead I lift my eyes to the heavens, searching the stars and desperately looking for a reason to change my mind. But the stars only flicker and stare back, the full moon low and heavy in the sky. Her pale face holds no answers, but I can feel the cool breeze, colder now so late in the year than it had been in early summer. The breeze lifts my hair, sending loose strands to brush along my face and tickle my nose.

My hands, which have been pressed against the gritty grey stone of the building flex slightly. For a moment am uncertain how safe it is to lift one to brush away the hairs that are disrupting my reverie. But eventually I lift one hand, that in the moonlight looks pale and almost see through save for a dark line going from inside my elbow to my wrist. The blood from the self inflicted wound has slowed but it has not eased the pain within me. Looking back at the moon, I feel a pain shoot through the very core of my being. A despair for the joy and existence that once I had enjoyed. My heart yearns for a yesterday that may never have been. A time that I imagine, and believe with all my heart to have existed. My eyes lift again to the moon, as the pain strikes my heart again.

I let out a small cry, my shoulders leaving the stone work as a sharp stabbing pain shoots through their blades. My fingertips curl some holding to the stone work as the pain increases, I cringe, my feet shifting on the ledge as the back of my shirt is torn open. A coppery scent hits the air around me as I lean forward slightly more, my body morphing and pushing forward. I take a deep breath inhaling the smell that I recognize as my own blood. It's stronger now than I've ever smelled it before, and I inhale deeply. The pain at my shoulders numbs slightly but I can't lean back against the stonework now. Which means I can't got back to the window I came out of.

The frustration, angers, fears, and disappointments that have driven me to this point finally cause me to crack. Salty hot tears stream down my face as I shift again. In doing so I look over my shoulder, seeing a pair of blood coated wings pressed against the stone work. I can feel the chill that rolls through my body at the realization. I shift trying to see if I can spread them. They open wide with little effort the blood sprinkling around me as they unfurl. I look up into the sky again as if to find an answer for this. But there is no answer. The stars are silent and know nothing of my plight or what kind of peril this change may have in store for me.

Defeated and changed, I close my eyes again inhaling deeply the scent of the world and myself. There are so many things that I would have done differently, so many things that I would have seen changed. But none of that matters anymore. I understand now that I am nobody, and that in the end I will be the same as those that came before me. Forgotten. Then finally understanding, I lean forward into the cold night air; wings spread wide as I leave the ledges safety, unafraid of what may come.

Even a Fairy Godmother Needs a Break

I know that my writing of late has become very sporadic. Not only that, but it has also become uninformative. To put things simply, I don't feel inspired to say much. There are a lot of things that I could write, or look at. But what fun is there in making things up?

I kind of needed the break. We all need a break from what we're doing now and then, and for me this was an unplanned but useful amount of time. It's given me a chance to evaluate what we've been looking at and figure out what direction I want to go in from here.

So what has been going on behind the scenes here? To be blunt, nothing noteworthy. No, I'm not deathly ill. No, I have not managed to find a niche here yet. No, I most definitely have not forgotten the people that I love that are far away. They're just far away from me. And I am far, far, far away from them.

The funny thing is that my cousin told Squash that. Because he was using a map to learn about where we are. He thinks we're on a whole different planet. Or, in Far, Far Away like in the Shrek movies. He still wants me to go back. It's always 'come home'.

But it's hard to come home when you're not sure anymore exactly where home is. Home is a funny thing like that. Sometimes home is where everyone you know is. Sometimes it's the place where we hang our hats for a little while.  Other times it's where someone else is that makes it home to us.

I don't know where home is anymore.

Kind of sad in a way I suppose. But it's fair to say that the only way to figure out where home is is to evaluate the things that are valued. But how do you decide what really matters?

I really feel like I need a break at this point. I need something to go right. Something needs to happen that will shed some light on the directions I have to go in. But what?

I guess we'll just wait and see.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I will try to get things back into an almost predictable order. After all we all like something we can predict.

Order can be nice in this chaotic world.

Death is not a Solution

People are seeing suicides mentioned in the news, in magazines, and in newspapers frequently these days. Which may make them seem like an okay thing. But what people are forgetting is that death, is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. It is in fact not a solution at all. Why? Once you're dead there is no way to change it, and there is no way to solve the problem or issue that was bothering you.

What are some of the reasons that people commit suicide? Some people think that their mistakes are irreversible, and that there is no way to solve a problem that's been presented to them. Some people are depressed, and believe that death is the only way to alleviate the feeling. There are others, who may be suffering from some form of psychosis. The mental disease may make them believe they have nothing better to expect in life. Then there are those who commit suicide on impulse, often influenced by the use of drugs and/or alcohol. Then there are some who turn to suicide, because they don't know how to ask for the help that they need.

Some quick facts and thoughts on the matter. Suicide is considered to be the 10th leading cause of death in the whole world. Two of the most common methods being hanging and the use of firearms. In some countries attempting suicide is considered to be a crime. In fact even some religions view it as wrong.

Death is not something that can be changed once it has occurred.It's not something to laugh about, and it's not something to joke about. If you really are feeling as though there is nothing left for you, talk to somebody. Feelings change, and so do situations and the things that are happening around us. There are friends, and family who can help you. Or if you're uncomfortable approaching them you can talk to a counselor. If you still are unsure you can call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-888-273-8255. You can call and talk to them about anything. In fact they're available 24/7 if you need to talk about anything.

NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION LIFELINE

More information can be found at the library, counselor centers or online if you want to learn more about this. Don't be afraid to reach out for help if you ever feel that death is your only option. If you don't ask for it, how can anyone be sure you need it? Also, please remember to be there for your friends. Don't blow them off if they mention wanting to hurt themselves, it's not a laughing matter.

Check these links for more information. Teenage Suicide Information  and Wiki Information on Suicide

Social Acceptance

Accepting people for who and what they are can be a very difficult thing. It's a very scary thing to realize that you're the outsider and that there isn't a place for you. That's how I feel lately. I'm from the outside, and don't belong here. I think  that it's something that's supposed to fade over time. But does it really?

There are a lot of things that make people different. We each have our own unique sets of experiences that influence the way that we interact with the world. It's not just how we look, or what we wear. It's how we present ourselves. We have a lot to offer to the world when it comes to the way we interpret our experiences. What we've seen and done can help others to understand what it is that they're going through.

But there are so many hurdles that are put up in order to keep people away from us. We don't like strangers, we don't like things that we don't understand, and we fear change. I am not sure what to think as I'm trying to fit into the new place that I find myself in. But it's not as easy as just changing clothes or cutting my hair. Trust me, if it really was as easy as cutting all of my hair off then that's what I would do.

But to earn Social Acceptance means trying to jump through hoops that other people are putting up. People tend to expect them to be leapt through without telling you what they are. Which leaves people grasping at straws. There are many things that people can do, but we can't read other peoples minds. At least, not reliably.

Socially, it's scary when trying to be accepted. But there is nothing that there is that can make it any easier. We can try to offer what we have, or we can shut ourselves off. There aren't clear ways to do these things. Why? Because there is no right or wrong answer.

I'm frustrated. I'm scared, I'm sad, and am lonely. All in all it leaves me feeling kind of depressed and hopeless. But...It doesn't really matter. None of these feelings are going to help me find an sort of acceptance here at all. But I guess that it doesn't really matter. Why?

Because in the long run it isn't going to change anything. What I feel doesn't change the social hierarchy of the place I've entered. What I want to do, what I think might fix something, doesn't matter. I can't fix things if other people want to see me fail. I don't know what I want right now, but I'm tired.

I'm so tired already.

From Cheerios to California

The city nearest where I have lived most of my life so far, has a tendency to smell like Cheerios. It's actually a well known fact that amuses a lot of people.  They even have shirts that declare it. There are two seasons, Winter and Construction. And there are definitely some of the best people you will ever meet to be found in the areas around the City of Buffalo. There's Shakespeare in Delaware Park, Forest Lawn Cemetery to picnic in, The Albright Knox Art Gallery, and thousands of events and places to see throughout the year.

California on the other hand, isn't someplace that I honestly know much about.

It never really was something I ever planned to do. Moving so far away from everything I ever knew. A few hours away, yeah maybe that had crossed my mind. But across the country? Maybe in those moments of wishful hopeful dreaming that I had when I was a kid. But this move has nothing to do with a dream.

This move is partly out of necessity, and it's a chance to start fresh. Maybe I can get out of the depressed rut that I've been in for almost a year now. And that's being nice.... I think it's been far longer than that. But the necessity isn't for me. Polka Dots Mom needs him. He moved to Buffalo, and we've given life here a good shot and a hearty attempt. But things aren't always as good as people pretend they are. His Mom needs help, and he can help. If that makes any sense.

Honesty is a key issue in this matter. It's very hard to just get up and tell everyone that I'm moving. They're going to disapprove and try to talk me out of it. But I need to do this. I need to leap, I need to get outside of my comfort zone. There's a huge world out there, and I can take a part of it. But I need to try and be brave enough to do it.

It's been rough trying to figure out how I'm going to do this. Today...was a real eye opener. Cayden was going to come stay here at the apartment with me. But when he got here he started commenting about everything that was missing from the apartment. He was all happy to be here, but then he turned around after seeing so many things gone and decided he wanted to go home. He stomped out to the car and they went back home.

I hadn't thought about how much this was going to hurt. I'm sitting here in tears because a three year old kid didn't want to stay over. Why? Because it's finally clicked in his head that us telling him over and over that I'm moving wasn't just talk, it's a fact. I don't know if that means he is mad at me, or for how long he will be mad at me...

But I'm upset myself. I'm trading Cheerios and the kids for Polka Dot and uncertainty. I'm kind of scared. In fact am terrified. But I'm sure this is a good thing, this is something good for all of us. I just wish that I believed that.