Tag Archives: Ghosts

Patience

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I keep trying to write here but recently I have been struggling to write at all.
I’ve had to start some medication that leaves me in a fog, dazed and stupid. I can’t focus on much of anything for more than five minutes and my inspiration has dried up.

I keep hoping I will push through it and get back to a place where I read and write regularly. But so far I haven’t managed to make it there.

So I’m writing this more or less just to write something. Anything. Just trying to shake the creative juices loose or get something moving again. With any luck at all I will start to see some positive effect from my medication and get back to where I am writing more. That is the ultimate goal in all of this. Improve the situation. Move my life forward again.

In the mean time, I have no idea what to say. I have a million fractured thoughts that would make brilliant starts to stories, poems or songs. But I can’t follow any of them. I chase these pieces like wisps of smoke. I can see them, I’m almost certain I should be able to reach them. But they slide through my fingers tips, insubstantial.

It’s a frustrating feeling, seeing so much potential that I just can’t make real. Fighting for a hold on something that use to be more readily present to me. But here I sit, ready to punch my monitor in frustration as I fumble words I’ve always managed so easily. I reread words I’ve written and hate them, seeing constant misspellings and errors in grammar or words missing entirely.

But still I try. I won’t let circumstance take my writing from me. And sooner or later, whether through adaptation or sheer force of will, I will see myself writing again. The process is just time.

Patience. Patience in all things. You can’t rush life, so to I must not rush health. Til then, I hope for the patience from others that I have failed to have with myself.

Ghosts

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The quiet rumble of evening chatter in this half assed dive drones like some tainted, off-white noise covering the the edges of my broken thoughts.

One more drink to forget.

I stare at the empty seat across from me. You sat there once. You smiled and laughed and asked me to stay with you. You said you felt lucky I would even consider it.
It’s hard to fathom that the moment is just a shadow of a memory. That no remnant of it remains outside my splintered psyche. Even the energy of our chemistry has faded in the wake of a thousand hours since.

But I can see your face as clear as day. I can see you laughing, hear you say my name….

Even after this lifetime those passing moments are more real than this world around me. The faces of strangers are blurred compared to yours. Their voices a distant echo next to you melodic speech.  Even the table under my shaking hands seems insubstantial when I remember your hand on my cheek.

And just that is enough to bring a torrent of other memories crashing into me. It feels like getting hit with bricks and I have to clutch my head against the pressure.
It passes after a moment and I sit back, drawing a rattling breath. I look back at the chair. I smile as I see you there again, even as some small part of my mind wonders how long I’ll court this haunting.

A question for tomorrow. Tonight I’ll indulge the grief and cling to the ghost of your memory. Another drink and another memory, clearer than reality.

One more drink to remember…