“I have awakened on a strange planet where I walk around with a grey, alien face and watch the young, native inhabitants living their lives in color"
I feel passionate about nothing. Waking up is only to take care of Luke and to make money to keep a roof over my warm bed. I see not one carefree day coming, when, from sun up to sun down I will delight in the feeling of all ten fingers, ten toes and in the air that enters and leaves my lungs. I see an empty seat next to my future, and am disappointed but relieved because I have no will to fill it. I could not care less if I live one day past whenever Luke leaves this world. My tiny moments of connection reveal themselves simply as time killers. I am sexless. If I was told I had cancer I would cry tears of joy knowing I was nearer to the end of an already excruciating pain. I have awakened on a strange planet where I walk around with a grey, alien face and watch the young, native inhabitants living their lives in color. They laugh, go to movies, and wear gold rings on their left hands to remind them of the day they committed to share experiences together that will age those rings with beautiful scratches. My hands look ugly and empty, and I wear my glasses because I know I can easily take them off and make the world blurry. I don’t want to see anyway, because I can’t cry hard enough to get all the tears out when I do. Yes, this is Tuesday. Here I am. Tomorrow I may feel the sunshine on my face again, cherish a deep love affair with Krishna, and remember the miracle of the smell of my cabin when I open its door, when my waking eyes are in synch with the beat of my heart and not the cause of its misery. When the wink of attention from a face I pass will make my day brighter and not remind me of the broken promises that darkened so many others. When I will believe that I am a good and lovable man and not a discarded piece of trash left alone along the side of a road I was breaking my back to build. When I will be able to offer trust without fear of punishment. When I will remember that today and tomorrow have one thing in common: each is one equal rung up the ladder that will take me out of here, this hellish university of funhouse mirrors, and over the wall that was not likely built to keep me out but raised to hold a future I cannot yet see on the other side. I will make it or I won’t. I am exhausted. Up I go.