Growing Old

Growing old has nothing to do with growing up. 

I’ve heard the most pure ancient wisdom spill from the lips of children, and I’ve seen the most foolish of old men and their foolish flock let the whole world burn around them expecting to be saved from the very flames they set.  It’s not divine intervention, and it sure isn’t blind luck, the grand mystery is that there is no mystery.  The truth behind it all has always been right in front of us. 

We’re just been too terrified to let ourselves see it. 

Except those like you and I of course, the few that have always seen something wrong with the way the world is and have known nothing more than to try and stand up to this nameless grand injustice.  Our numbers have never been many, and even fewer still have the courage to fight for what’s right anymore.  I’ve lost so many brothers and sisters to this that I stopped counting a long time ago, but it’s never has been a game of numbers though, our continuing existence is the purest of proofs to this truth.  We’ve never been afraid to hide in the darkest of shadows and bide our time, alone in wait for our chance to strike.  The others have always been afraid of this, that’s why they franticly point their lights into the dark trying to root us out, but they’re always too terrified to look in the most awful of places and that’s where we’ve always been waiting for them.

The blows of truth have always been the most devastating against our enemy, and those trying to deny it are always shaking in terror at the mere thought of having to endure even one.  It’s in this power where our numbers become meaningless, because we need only one of us to make it through, and we still have plenty more than that ready to die trying. 

All of our purest forms have become so fragile though and this makes it so easy for us to let them fall apart and get lost along the way through our lives.  After losing the fight for so long now, I can’t really blame the ones that stand against us.  There’s something that feels so impossible about keeping up this fight in the face of such awful odds.  But for myself, and those like me, there is no choice in the matter.  We cannot cage this beast, this bloodlust for injustice and the fight for those everyone else seems to throws to the wolves.  Never has the need been greater than now, things are as bad as they’ve ever been and despite the fact that they will no doubt get worse, we’ll never give up, we’ll never stop fighting, there is nothing that can change this. 

Even our defeats, they cannot stop this rhythm once it has begun.  When you stand up for something greater than yourself it finds a way of living in all of us, and even though they can put us down one at a time, they’ve never been able to stop those who will take our place when we’re gone and fight for what’s right.  This is our plight, to march into a certain death with a purpose so many spend their whole lives looking for but are too terrified to take hold of.

Those who stand against us, they’re caught up in the luster of false promises and easy answers.  After all, it takes courage to walk into the dark and so few carry that kind of courage with them.  This is why we’ve always told the story of the hero.  To hold those virtues at a comfortable distance just out of the reach of responsibility, and to hope that when the time comes, one will come along to save us all.  That’s never been the way things have worked though, and if there is only one thing that all of this has taught me, it is that our salvation lies within, and the only way out of this is to dig deep and find what we can in ourselves.…

Charles - Date Unknown

He died cold and alone.
Though these days few are that lucky.
Most spend those last moments clutched in the horror, the pain, and are left cursed to walk until someone like me comes along to end their nightmare.

Out here though, he found the kind of peace we all wish we could have in those last minutes.
He had the courage to end his war once and for all.
Though I admire the end he has chosen for himself, it's not one I care to call my own.  Still, for a split second I envy his resolve, and just as quick my mind is flooded with the reasons I can't end up like him.
There's no doubting my end is just around the corner, and I'm starting to see things the same way he must have before he took his way out.

He didn't leave very much behind for me, but I take what I can and thank him for that much.
He reminds me how we really don't get to mourn the dead like we used to.  Now we pick at their bones for what little they have left to keep us alive another day, to prolong this horrible nightmare.
Too often I've turned my back on the screams of those who couldn't be saved so I could save myself, and for so long I've told myself that this is the way the world is.With so much loss around us, you can't think about it for too long without the sickening feeling that pours into your stomach, and that's one thing we do not have time for out here.  I suppose if there's one lesson to learn from his choice, it's that there is always another way out.

There's isn't a thing living or dead for miles.
His body's undisturbed and hasn't been gnawed on by something awful yet.
He chose this spot well.
He knew exactly what he was doing.

I'm compelled to take a moment to say goodbye to another brother in arms, to try and remember why we used to honor the dead, so maybe we could draw strength from their passing.  After so many have died in the most futile vanity, it becomes senseless and sooner or later, just reflex.  With so little behind me, and nothing on the horizon, maybe a reminder of our humanity is exactly what I need.  It's this reminder I thank him for the most, because it's more valuable than any weapons or food he could have left behind for me.

Then again.

The more people I come across just like him, they only carve deeper into the void leave nothing to fill the profound sense of lost that soon follows. Nothing but  a reminder that sooner or later I'm going to be lying right where he is.  Cold...and alone

Alison's missing

I Waited for her all night long.
Every moment in the darkness was dragged out like a lifetime.
Each time the wind came through and rustled the leaves, my heart jumped hoping it was her footsteps moving with it just like I had taught her.  She never came out of the dark though, and once the sun finally came up, I had to try and find her myself.
As insane as it seemed, I had no choice but to try.
After all, there have been countless times before where blind luck has been kind and brought us together despite the odds, but I can't help but wonder if that luck has run out on me.
There's nothing quite like the frantic panicked search for the ones you love.
Despite the critical need for rational thought in moments like these, the mind is over-run with a sickening unsettling need to run in circles and lose yourself....
Things never used to be on the line quite like they are now, there is no room for error, and the wrong step could be your death sentence.  The reaper has us all in his arms, now I'm stuck wondering if her time had come, if he had finally taken the last thing I had, and left me alone in the world.

The Night

More often than I’d like to admit, I find myself on nights like these with my face buried in my hands, crying and saying over and over again how much I miss you. 

How bad it hurts to be out here alone. 

And how I’m not sure how long I can go down this road knowing what I know. 

I try to remind myself again and again why I must, I try to tell myself crazy things like you’re somewhere out there watching over me, waiting for me to finally find what I’m looking for.  But that only breaks my heart more to think you can see me like this when I am so weak, so lost.  For so long this fight made sense, there was purpose to be found in the way ahead, but as each day drags on, that light gets darker and darker, until finally, I’ve lost my way completely.  The fear has always been in the not knowing, the stranger on the other side of the door, never before have I been so terrified of wha’s waiting for us in the dark, as if all the wonder and reason has been lost forever and all that’s left to be found are the things we’ve been trying so hard to hide.  The things we try so hard to forget about and let time take them away with its passing.  I’ve always been foolish to think these things can ever be buried, the truth has a life of its own, and you can be sure one way or another it will dig itself up.  I can’t help but wonder if somewhere in there, is an awful truth that I never thought possible.

That perhaps, my end will be just as worthless as the rest. 

That this whole time I’ve been so scared to find the truth that I buried behind me long ago, that nothing I did made a difference, and I’ve been running from myself this entire time.  I wonder how different I would feel if you were still here at my side.  I remember how invincible I was, knowing I had you to come home to, and I don’t doubt for a second it saved my life more than once or twice.  Even after you left, I carried it with me into the darkest of days and still managed to find my way out.  Countless times I’ve tried to do what you thought was right, and keep what little of that we had alive and well.  Each day that goes by though, it seems to get heavier and instead of lifting me up to fight another day, it leaves me exhausted and crying my eyes out just like tonight, asking myself just how much longer can we let this go on?  Like all other things, I feel only so much of this is up to me, and sooner or later, the choice I need to make is going to be clear as crystal.

Why Now?

Why now?

An old classic of a question, and a stupid one at that, yet we cannot seem to stop ourselves from asking it can we?  I never thought you’d come back, that’s the gods honest truth.   

I buried you a long time ago and thought I ran away more than fast enough to get away in time, but I guess there’s some things that are just meant to be. 

Just like this awful dance between you and me. 

The rhythm of it is too subtle to really notice, so it always seems like some of these steps just come out of nowhere, but I know it’s just the world bringing me back to you one way or another.  Maybe this is just its way of telling me I’d better keep up, because we all know what being left behind means, after all, isn’t that what I’ve been though through this whole time?  Chasing that name on the tip of my tongue that faint memory of your touch, and all the nights I’ve laid awake wondering if you were out there somewhere dong the same…  Even the strongest of men have to come face to face with their moments of weakness, no doubt, this has been one of them, but the need to press on is all I have left, it’s what gets us through this, and what carries these broken hearts into tomorrow.