I've been in pain over the past several months.  Serious pain.  Make that the past year or so. 
Serious pain. Real pain.
Pain brings chaos.
Internal pain, external pain, real pain & imagined pain.
Does it matter if it's real or imagined?  No it doesn't.  Or, rather, it shouldn't.
It's often said, "it's all in your head. It's not real & it's not really happening."
Again, does it matter --if it's real or imagined pain?  If it's internal or external?
Pain. Loss. Empty.
Pain is pain is pain.
I've experienced enough pain for a dozen lives.
First and foremost is the pain of addiction & mental health.
Crazy. Nuts. Loony. Insane. Coo-koo. Batty. Bat shit crazy.
Seeing things, hearing things, smelling things, sensing things (that aren't there.)
Withdrawal. Craving, aka "jonsing." Desperation. Loss. Loss. Loss.
Loss loss loss.

 "Scared, helpless, and weak."  --SNAPCASE 1993

Emptiness.  Deep, deep emptiness. 
"What you have is a God sized hole in your heart (soul) that you are trying to fill with
narcotics, alcohol, sex, materialism, etc."
Ahhh, materialism. 
Get some. 
Get some more. 
Get some more more. 
More, more, more, more.
And then more.
I'm still empty.

  "I've got my arms wrapped around myself, you've got your arms around someone  else.  I lie to myself. I tell myself I'm not down.  I'm not down (lie)."  

I listen to "The End of Silence" by the great, great ROLLINS BAND.  I listen to that record
over & over & over & over again.  I always do. I can't stop. I'm hooked. I'm "addicted."
That's not all I'm addicted to.
I kill myself every 30 - 60 minutes with one more cancer stick.  "Just one more...."
I just need one more.  (We all need 'one more'.)
Tobacco. Liquor. Heroin. Cocaine. Dextromethorphan. Cannabis. Benzodiazipines. 
Certain days are better then others. I've put all of those away. Almost a full year since
I've tasted anything --save for tobacco. The "paper dick" as it's known.
Suppose it's better than the"glass dick."
I lied. Some days AREN'T better than others.
Some days have less suffering than others. It doesn't make those days better.
 If I hold your head underwater for sixty seconds, then pull you out for ten seconds
then hold you underwater for sixty seconds, then pull you out for ten seconds, over
& over & over & over --you will suffer.  Each time you are allowed a breath it is 
nothing pleasurable.  You are simply experiencing less suffering, albeit temporarily.I'm sick.
Sick sick sick.
I'm in pain.
Serious pain.
Pain brings chaos.
Truth is, I love the chaos. Any chaos. All chaos. I worship chaos. I create chaos and then
I beg for help to get rid of the chaos. When help arrives, I turn it down. I turn it away. I turn 
it around. I drag the helpers into my chaos.
I set fire to the fireman.
I arrest the police officer. 
Peace officer. 
Emptiness. Empty. Empty empty empty.
Pain brings chaos.  I love the chaos. I'm addicted to the chaos. When I can have external chaos
near me, it quiets the internal chaos. It soothes the hurt. Temporarily.
It's a band-aid on a gunshot.
Then I cry out for more help. I beg for more help. I plead for more help.
But it doesn't come. It never comes. It stopped answering me thirty years ago.
No one comes anymore. No one answers anymore. No one listens anymore.
I'm sick.
Sick sick sick.
In pain. Real pain. Imagined pain.  P-A-I-N is a four letter word.
I thought pain was my friend. I know pain so well I feel like we are brothers.
Brothers. My brother is pain.

   "I have no emotion I have no devotion, it's empty motion, oceans of notions 
    intent on ego promotion.
    No elation, no devastation.
    Supplication seems a foreign creation.

    Barren & beaten & broken & bruised is the briar-ridden, thorn-land of my heart.
    My cries are lies from conceitful eyes."   --108 "Holyname" 1991

Heartache, loss, confusion, and chaos.  It's all I've known for too long now.
I've been searching for something for so goddamn long now.  I spent so much time
searching that I've forgotten what it was I am looking for.  I wouldn't know it if it
hit me square in my face.
I am chaos & confusion.
Chaos around me quiets the chaos inside me.
That much I do know.
2013 is now.  It's here. It's today.

  "There's this bridge I've got to cross and I feel alone.
   A child down to each side and I can't carry both.   
   The bridge is long we could fall down through holes
   Water all around, wind, wet and cold.
   One child insecure displays the confidence he doesn't own.   

   Another child, uncertain, looks around and cries for his home.
   My bridge is too unstable and the insecurity is letting go.   
   There's no holding to a crumbling bridge.
   When all the time is gone in between it tumbles. 

   Time to move along. 
    I toss & turn over & over & over & over.   
   Trying to dream out anxiety----
   Easy answers to my problems.

   Keeping a grip on sanity.
   Until the sun comes up & my mind's fresh and clean."  --SAMIAM 1989
Heartache heartache heartache.
Always. Use. Love.
That is what I will try to use to stop the chaos, the pain, the torment, the heartache.
No more heartache. No more.
No more.
Emptiness. Empty.
Always use love. 
I sometimes feel like I've been missing out on something.  Something BIG.
Almost like I 'missed the boat.'  It leads to confusion & chaos.
It always leads to chaos & heartache.  I missed the boat.  My ride didn't show.
But mostly, I feel like everyone else was given an instruction booklet on life except for me.
When we were kids the teacher passed out a very important book on how to live.
I was absent that day.  
I never got it.
Everyone else.
But me.


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