Preparations

Tonight I've decided to give into my thoughts.  I've decided to put on the war paint, strip off the illusions and wait for the demons to come find me.  They always find me.  I'm waiting.

 
Have you ever been plagued by the same thought and decided to simply not consider it?  You know, push it away, find a distraction, drink, blow one...just about anything aside from confront, consider and explore what it is that's tapping at you conscious door.  Shit, we all do.  If you say no, you're likely lying to your Self. 

I've been good at lying to myself.

This is a hard point for me to ignore considering the station I find my Self at in life.  This is the a particularly dark part of the station I have been unwilling to explore for fear of the demon that I know resides there.  The irony is that it's really the lying to others and my justifications of this behavior that has ultimately closed my eyes to the damage I was doing to everyone in my life...including my Self.  For years I've avoided this particular demon.  Doing so has given it a great deal of power and nourishment.  I've fed it, kept it healthy and then allowed it to run loose.  I've ignored it's handy work wherever I've seen it...pretending.  It becomes very easy to justify little untruths; concealing things that seems unimportant and arbitrary, misleading others about your intentions, etc.  It becomes all the easier when my little lies are placed next to some of the things I know other dudes are out here doing.  I'm not that bad; see, easy.

Like I said, I've been really good at lying to myself.

Lately I've been looking at the conditions that created this demon.  I've ventured further and further into the corridors where it resides.  I've been exploring the components and situations that have manifested it.  In short, I've been taking a hard look at my Self.  It's hard to look at something ugly and see yourself in it.  I think that is the reason we ignore so much of what is wrong with our Selves.  Otherwise, we simply grow to loath our Self because we DO know the ugly.  I know it's the reason I've feared looking into this demon's eyes for so long.  It is a major part of why it is easy to ignore it.  The demon leaves me alone and I continue to feed it.  A reciprocal relationship, no?

Lately I've been trying to figure out what I'm getting out of this relationship. 

So, I've decided tonight to venture into the heart of this part of the station.  Here I will sit, in quiet meditation, wondering how and when the demon will come.  Will I see it coming and be able to plan my response?  Will it stealthily creep upon my sitting consciousness seeking to take it by surprise? Does it know I am here?  I tell my Self I must not be concerned with such things.  We only need to be ready.  We only need to prepare.

I can't express to you the myriad pieces that become tainted or allowed to fail beyond repair simply by obscuring the truth of the situation.  When dealing with a possession such as a vehicle or a house, it likely means the loss of said possession.  When dealing with people, it likely means the loss of trust, bonds and relationships.  Either way, I'm tired of loosing what I've worked to establish.  So I've vowed to train my Self to stand in truth.  To prepare for the demon's return by withdrawing the fear that has fed it. 

I've decided to fight.

Next Stop...

I've been spending my time trying to explore this new station my life has pulled into.  Trying to figure out where the hell I am...at least in relation to the surroundings that used to be familiar.  I find myself peering out of windows, looking for some sort of sign or marker or anything that might tell me where it is that I am.  I think if I can figure that out, I might be able to form some plan for where I'm headed next.  That's the funny thing about being disoriented.  The rationale never quite manifests into action according to plan. 

I stepped off the train unsure.  That's a hard thing for a man to admit.  From, umm...every since, we are fed this machismo that says that even if we don't know, we'd better figure that shit out and ACT like we know.  At least until you do.  The uncertainty in me leads to a defense mechanism of sorts.  I've made an art form in my life of blending in, not being noticed.  So I find myself stepping around this station trying hard not to be noticed.  Unsure of who's eyes are watching me.  Unsure of what may happen if anyone was to discover me here.  I mean, after all...I have no idea where I am. 

I walk down aging, deteriorated corridors that were once ornately decorated.  I can tell that at one time this was a majestic place.  Hand carved moldings, intricately framed doorways and skylights...marble stairways with hand carved wooden baluster and rail.  All now falling apart.  I become very aware of the quiet desolation of this place.  It sits in my stomach and makes me uncomfortable.  Kind of like reading a book, or watching a movie and a character that you've linked to because of how much you relate to them does something you're not comfortable with.  It's enough to make you stop watching or put down the book.  But the broken condition that surrounds me is evident everywhere.  I figure it's probably because no one is here.  This place looks abandoned and thus, unkept and deteriorating.  For a moment I am saddened by the condition of disrepair.  I wonder why treasure like these are allowed to fade into obscurity of memory only.  This thought allows room for logic to once again prevail and I find myself wondering why a train would pull into such a station in the first place.  Was this a mistake?  Was I not suppose to get off the train here?  And why am I blending in if no one else is here?  I still feel like I'm being watched.  Disorientation returns with the familiar feeling of panicked urgency to figure out what I should be doing.  There is the recognition that if I decide to venture out of the station, the train that brought me here might leave without me.  I have no idea when or even IF the train is leaving this station.  The disorientation is compounded by the thought that I'm not quite sure how to get back TO the train.  I begin moving quickly through staircases and down corridors trying to  find my way back.  Hastened steps are better, right?  Even if I'm going the wrong way, moving quickly means I'll know sooner and will be able to turn back sooner, right? 

Tiring myself only leads to more confusion.  I don't have the answer to this labyrinth, nor can I answer the question of what to do next.  I am still in fear. 

Ironically, it is the stillness and the quiet acceptance of the situation that allows for the answers to begin to come.  I have been attempting to conceal myself in this station...from myself.  There is no one here save myself.  My Self.  Decrepit, unmaintained, in disrepair.  I've been seeking to explore, while at the same time endeavoring to hide, from myself.  I have a small chuckle to myself that reverberates through the corridors of this station.  That tickles me even more until I am in full, deep, stomach tightening, muscle aching laughter. 

I'm a fucking idiot.

I become extremely disinterested in when the train might leave.  I guess I'll get on it when I'm ready to leave.  I'm fully aware at this point that there is more here to explore, more to discover, more to learn.  For now, this place needs some love, some attention and some energy that may restore the fading beauty to it's former glory.  

I roll up my sleeves and smile.  I haven't smiled in a while.

The Beginning.