The Road

Yes this is another writing on “The Road” – which is probably the most written about figurative fandango – but nevertheless “The Road” is the one thing that cannot be denied as a universal truth: we are all on “The Road” to somewhere…where are YOU going?

Before we begin, can we all stop what we are doing and observe a moment of silence for a childhood friend from Martha’s Vineyard Davy Campbell. If you know how, pray for the Campbell family.

I am of the religion that can send love and healing as energy to bodies and souls around the world who need relief from suffering. Whether you suffer from insanity or a broken body or the loss of something that should never be lost…welcome.

I laid my burden down upon SOMETHING greater than me, a power so strong it was able to literally lift me up off the ground and put me on a path that unfolds when I ask for help, stay clean and sober, and LISTEN.

In today’s sick, sad, mixed up world what do we each have in our lives that keeps us going?

What makes the human entity continue to live through such suffering that can feel like it could stop your heart and tear it out as each painful moment passes?

How do you cope with death? You can’t.

Death is nearer than you think and when it arrives on your front porch knocking at the front door to your house, go answer the door. Fear keeps us safe and sound shivering under the covers. But Faith allows us to open the door, smile, and welcome Death in.

Because Death is going to come regardless of how much you try and hide. I was given some advice as a younger lad which I carry with me today: to tell the truth is to cause less pain, lying is always more painful than the truth. Cope with death? Grieving the loss of someone is different for all of us.

When I called home from jail to my parent’s house, my mother answered and we chatted for a while about freedom and philosophy, but then she told me the news of my first love I will never forget.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this, Seany…” Said Seels.

“Come on ma, you cannot lead me on like that haha! Tell me!” Said Charlie.

“Summer is dead. She killed herself. I guess she was in New York somewhere and took all her Klonipin and went to sleep.” Said Seels.

I went completely emotionless and numb to the point that I felt nothing but the anger towards all of these strangers I was forced to live with. Anger turned inwards at the person who I had become. The type of person who would steal a 100 dollar bill while you are in the bathroom, then deny it when accused and helpful enough to look for the 100 dollars with you. Yes, I was that man.

I was the man on TV, with a mugshot just like Earl Simmons and Lindsay Lohan. Glad I ain’t famous because imagine what it would be like for media to spread such personal shit all over the world so they can eat it up like starving vicarious dogs.

I was the man who you did not want to meet. Now I am the man who everyone wants to meet. Go figure, all I had to do was put on some makeup and a wig, and I became a staw! Ehem, anyways the truth is here:

http://andsoitgoesmag.podomatic.com/entry/2013-10-08T21_52_29-07_00

Listen to that while we talk about what it means to change from selfishness, dishonesty, anger, resentment, fear, and misconduct into something that lives, breathes, and poops spirituality!

The Road is long, the road is tough, but as the world turns, it seems nothing is enough…

To change the way we live, like Tupac used to preach before he disappeared, yet listen to the radio wow it’s queer: fear, lies, and cheap is all I hear.

What about the real talent? What about the truth? How come everyone believes the lies TV tells you, or the newspaper or the website? Too many questions, not enough drugs…

Run away all the people who stand in the way of progress. When you all realize that you are going in the wrong direction, how will you turn around? Who do you follow, little sheep little sheep? Who is your shepherd? Alcohol?

Let’s talk about the most poisonous drug to hit the streets since dilauted.

Booze booze booze how I love you. You took away my Uncle before I met him, you have run through my family like a patient murderer stalking his prey…attacking raping pillaging like a perverted pirate you reign…King Alcohol rules over this whole country…and we are grovel like slaves yet we pretend nothing is wrong it’s still the same…

This is how I grieve the loss of a person I haven’t seen in years, a young man younger than me at the age of 26. Why God? Why? Why did you take him away? Anger, very real rage enough to use my fists to beat my face until black and blue is all that stands between me and the truth.

Brave the storm. Here it comes…pain that sears the mental skin and burns another scar within…Angel Angel what have I done? Why can’t I cross this river.

Because I was just like him, the same, in certain ways that create nothing but misery and suffering for the afflicted, and for those around the afflicted. Because I am him. I have driven drunk many times, and I am not alone. For every one driving drunk offense (like getting pulled over from driving home from the bar) the honest numbers say this: a person had driven a thousand times without getting pulled over.

Where did I go?

On The Road I took many shortcuts, always with the hope of finding some peace of mind, some serenity, some calm moments long enough to forget the screams.

But they always left me farther behind on The Road, because I noticed the same things happening over and over, as if repeating themselves in order to teach me a lesson. If I failed the lesson I could not progress forward. It has been over a month since the last lesson, and as each day passes by towards the dark days of New England winter…

Where am I going?

Running towards the light as a dying man runs from the zombie apocalypse…

No seriously I am running but I am not running away, I am running at you. I am running towards you. I am running for you. Look for something special coming to a street near you. Walk for Addiction, which is really just a Walk for Love because that is what they need. Not a “holding” – a treatment facility usually funded by the state as a way to protect and and hold the patient for an undetermined amount of time while they wait for a bed in a long-term, residential rehab.

As I walk The Road, I see others walking beside me.

I see you.

I recognize you as me, because we are both human and we are both prone to the side-effects of being human: jealousy, judgment, and Jehovah’s Witness (had to finish with a Jay word 🙂

I also see strangers in the distance. They look away when I look in their direction, and I look away when they look at mine. Whyyy sooo serious? Said an actor who was just like me, but didn’t get back up. May he finally be with the peace he had been looking for…for so long.

You see, the stories that we tell have power, and they have spirit, and they have soul, and they have something that can reach into your heart and maybe spark something special…something like recovery from over eating, or love addiction (which is another label for too much socializing) or just seeing a tragedy right before your eyes that leave you on the ground with burning red eyes as the tears stain your face with fear and nothing but the pain seems to last until what is left but to smoke, sniff, drink, and inject that succulently sweet instant death.

Big Breath, breathe in the suffering of the Campbell family. Hold it inside my lungs until all I feel is love, and exhale until I have not one cell of oxygen left, almost fall on the floor empty except a feeling so pure. I breathe out that love and healing and peace while I hold the picture of their family in my mind.

Now I pray, because the suffering finds a home in my heart and the only way to express that is to write, and write, and write until my hands cramp up and I want to go to sleep but I can’t because SOMETHING won’t let me. SOMETHING is telling me to walk out the door, walk down main street Hyannis on Cape Cod in Massachusetts – the state that is so depressing 100 people overdose daily just so they can escape – and I hand out my card.

Why? Sounds a little sketchy mister, I mean who do you think you are?

Not you. Why? Because a hand reached out of the darkness in 2006 and took my hand, held it until I was safe on the other side, and gave me hope. You know, like the Hope Obama advertised. He should have advertised Dope because that is what the world wants, not someone who believes in the people and the good they can bring.

I am the people, I walk among them and I see every one of you. I still remember her face, and the color of her hair, and her name: Ally. The tears I have running down my face are real, the pain I feel is real, but the joy for being alive is there too, and the gratitude for what life teaches me.

The lesson was how precious life is to be lived even one day, let alone a lifetime, and we all live it without knowing when it will end. Remember who loves you, and I will too. Let’s hold on to them a little closer, and never forget the truth that is staring at you right outside that door.

The war is not over in the Middle East…the war is right here, in our home, and the saddest thing of all is that we have lost our identity as a nation of UNITED states. Look around, and tell me you don’t see the same thing I do.

Time to fight back. Not with weapons but with words. That is all I have left in life. It was all I had when I was in a jail cell living off the government, it was all I had in the psychward living off a hospital that didn’t do background checks and didn’t care about their patients, it was all I had when I was homeless, it was all I had when I was in another detox, rehab, sober house…basically glorified group homes with the broken philosophy of: “stick them all together and let them figure it out.”

Well we figured it out, and now it’s time to talk.

The power I feel now from the way I felt before, from the time my sister called me and told me Davy died last night until right now, is unbelievable in that it changed from hopelessly emotional and so upset the heart felt so weak to smiling, crying tears of anger and joy, and ready to take on tomorrow with the same fire inside I feel right now. The now…the moment…the infinite.

His name was David Campbell.

Love your Self

Every Junkie is like the Setting Sun

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3 thoughts on “The Road

  1. I lived on the same road as Davey growing up and he was probably one of my very first friends. Even though I hadn’t seen him since I was around ten years old, I remember him being one of the funniest and most lively individuals I had known up to that point. That outrageously loud, bellowing laugh he would let out was enough to make anyone lose it. After my brother died in 2009, Davey reached out to me via facebook and let me know how much he loved him, and how upset it made his family. I’ve experienced death close up between my brother and other friends, so hearing of his death was initially just another one gone too soon, but it still pained me and brought back memories I thought I had all but lost. I’d give anything to hear him laugh at me one more time for throwing a football like a girl. RIP bud.

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