Today I came across some old poetry and songs that I had written my senior year of high school. It was a pleasant surprise. I thought these were lost forever in the virtual universe, which they were, just hidden in the depths of my email. I was overjoyed I had found these lost relics of my early writing days. It was like looking through a photo album full of memories surrounding happiness and great times. It all came flooding back to me. I felt myself becoming very emotional as I sat in nostalgia looking back on the life I had. It was a life I was so proud to live. A life where I felt so full. A life I could call my own.
Although those times were blissful in nature, I was a vulnerable target. My life was about to change as I walked across the stage at graduation moving forward in life to find satisfaction. What that satisfaction would be was out of my control. The power was rested in me. A choice I had to make all my own. Under pressure and discouraged to follow my dreams. I now had to face reality. A monster all its own. A powerful figure whose authority I couldn’t overthrow.
I still don’t know what happened. What caused me to fall? What drove me to drink and lose sight of it all? What kept me from rising above powerful and strong? Today that became a little bit clearer. Upon a second read through these poems I began to notice. I noticed images and statements of dark days foretold. Written on the walls was my fate all along. A misfortune whose effects would be felt all life long.
Had I not been so disillusioned in those days, would I have seen the signs? If had stopped to consider the emotions I was feeling I would have had a different life. All I had to do was read between the lines. Take a microscope to my mind and take a closer look. I would have saved myself 4 years of time. Met many of my goals and been on the rise. To a stable and secure place no longer having to run the race. That was not the case. plagued with sadness, betrayal and shame. I gave up on life in a tragic way. Turning to an elixir to numb the pain. Before my eyes my life had changed into something I never accounted for in my heyday.
Reading. A fundamental thing we all do. Whatever your medium may be is universally understood that words in front of you can bring you a truth. I disagree, for I am living proof. Close attention must be paid to what you read and write. Between the lines are encrypted messages that reality hides. The surface level is one big lie. A fabricated message that has no dimensions, a message unrefined. Read it once, then read it twice. You’ll be shocked at what you could find lurking in the shadows. Disguised by flowery language, distracting anecdotes, gripping imagery, and compelling insights. Between the lines are the answers you will find. Between the lines a whole new world lies. Right under our finger tips if you take the time.
I’ll leave it at that. No more words to be said. I’ll take my truth and head to bed.
Letting Out A Sigh,