Signpost At The Crossroads

Spent last night in another maze dream. I was walking around these different places trying to find Marsha. Never did find her, of course. Wandering, walking, asking the various people I ran into if they had seen my baby sister. I suppose there is no complicated explanation as to why I have dreams like that. Of course she's on my mind. I've thought of her every day for these long months, but September makes it even more unavoidable, you know. It is only logical such thoughts would make their way into my dreams. Her birthday is in a few days. She would have been 41. Tomorrow will be the eighth month since she's been gone, that melancholy anniversary of that terrible day I lost her. Of course, my own birthday passed a few days ago with it being the first lacking our usual hour or so talk on the phone... It was not exactly a happy birthday. No doubt I would have heard from my mother as well, but again 2022 took her too. I had a tradition of crank calling Marsha on her birthdays. Arnold, Mr T, Doctor Freud, you never knew who'd be calling. Of course she always knew it was me. I already miss her terribly, but this month is even worse. I fear this will never get better. I really just don't see how. There is no bringing her back. I can see her, And I can hear her voice thanks to pictures, her plays, yadda yadda... But seems that only reminds me that she is no longer here. I can't talk to her.. Can't call her when I need somebody to talk to. Can never again wish my little sister a happy birthday. Damn I miss her. I have some things going on right now I could really use her advice on. Like I said once, we had a few demons in common that we had to fight.  She was the only one who could have ever understood. If all this were a movie, there would be that darkest night before dawn. There would be this long moment of hopelessness and gloom just before the hero (Be it a person or be it simply circumstance) arrives to dry the tears and take away the pain. That glorious moment where everything is proven to have been worthwhile. Just hold on is all the main character has to do. But what is it like when one realizes this is no movie at all? Well then you have the feeling that such gloom and hopelessness might never end at all. And if it really does seem that way, what are the main character's options? Wait, run away, or maybe something else I won't spell out here? Sometimes I understand Doctor Soran just a bit, who spent 80 years looking for another way to the Nexxus and assures us there is none. Now that's a place I know I'd never leave. All my loved ones, and a chance to reform my every decision and for the first time be my true self? You're damned right I'd never leave! But this sure ain't the Nexxus, and I've been thinking of leaving one way or another for quite some time. Just not sure which. Thing is I'm tired. Long term tired. I need something to work towards or look forward to, and I need it now. So long as I feel I have no real future, I see no point in fighting for anything. Yes I know how dramatic this may sound, but these are my honest feelings. I really can't change how it sounds. All I could really do is just remain silent. I kinda still am, you know. See I doubt these words will be seen by anybody who actually face to face knows me. This at least allows me the freedom to speak my mind so long as I avoid certain key words. Paradoxically, it actually helps me to express these thoughts. I fear folks overreacting to what I might say. I am sure I'm not the only human being to have these thoughts, and even move beyond them as I have done so many times in the past. Maybe now will be no different. The way I got out of it last time was to acknowledge certain truths about just who the soul within was, and maybe try to reflect that self in whatever limited way I can. It wasn't much but it was enough back then. Then there was the negative motivation about how the very few people who loved me would be caused unnecessary pain. These are people I would never want to see hurting, especially due merely to because the fact that they loved me. My love for them could never allow this to happen. Now those few are even fewer. My mother and my baby sister are now gone. Things fall apart. The center cannot hold. Good one, Yeats. How true it is. The few get fewer. Loved ones and reasons, fading away, leaving me here. I guess I do sound dramatic, though I am only reacting. This is what it is to stand in these shoes, see with these eyes, and feel in this heart. In no way am I embellishing, exaggerating, or whatever. Here I am and this is me. This is how I feel. This is where I stand. Mostly. That being there is one more thing I wish I could say. Maybe someday I will have the courage. Until that day, here we are. How about a change of direction? Validation is really a hell of a thing. It really bites that we human beings need such a thing. Yet it is a need almost as basic as air, food, and water... Only we don't always die from its lack, not immediately anyway. It is often a much slower death. And some of us are the walking dead, walking around, but dead inside. And you can't really have true validation if you are incomplete in saying just who you are in the first place. And social media? You might as well forget looking there. It is the last place and the worst place to seek it. Oftentimes you find yourself leaving feeling so much worse than you were before. You will not find validation. What will you find instead? Mostly there are ads for crap you don't need and/or could never afford. There are folks on their political soapboxes, blue and red. There are armchair missionaries trying to 'save your soul' and thinking their damned religion is the answer to everything. There are those lovey dovey couples (Usually only one of the set) raving about just how wonderful their guy or gal is. There are other showing off just how wealthy they are, with cars, fancy houses and over the top vacations. Believe me the environment there is way too toxic for any real validation of any kind. Sometimes I seriously consider joining a few groups, changing a few ticks on the ol profile, maybe make a big splash with a new picture... Shout from the rooftops in the most memorable way, Go in style, go with a smile. In for a penny, in for a pound. Hmmmmmm. Better not for now. And so that battle rages on. Though that may be something I need to do if I'm ever to be truly happy. Maybe not quite in that fashion, but somehow. It's the same old internal debate. It's not changing until I actually decide. From there, going back would be impossible. One can far easier step off that proverbial cliff, but you can't step back onto it. From there it's Wile E Coyote all the way. Either you fall or you fly. There really is no going back. There is really no such thing as truly coming home. Some places are separated by miles, but it's when they're separated by years that you know you can never go home again. Geography is only part of the problem. Maybe I am some sort of time hobo. Not homeless, but timeless? Either way 2022 sucks. This two thousand double deuce piece of shit year of hell, this temporal equivalent to a slime covered cardboard box sucks so much it even makes hoover actually look like it's blowing. And not in the good way, dudes. I hate this goddamn year. Otherwise, how is your day going? Yes, such feelings come out in these waves. I surprise myself sometimes. Loved ones fade. Love for loved ones never will. And love just hurts sometimes. I always thought I would see her again.