Means To My End

So today on my usual morning quest before work, I set out to purchase my 44 oz "The Big Chill" cup filled to the rim with a Fountain Diet Coke. This journey is often not without mishaps and misgivings and I often wonder why I even bother in the first place. It's simple: Addiction.

I drove into the parking lot with that nervous feeling of anticipation. After all, going without my drink of choice can be a harrowing task not only for me, but also for others who have to deal with me. Keep in mind it's not the usual excuse of, "Oh I need my morning dose of caffeine." No, with me it's something different altogether: Bubbles.

What the fuck is better than a cold carbonated drink in the morning?

Nada.

I looked nervously inside, not recognizing the clerks behind the counter and was alarmed by the number of people in line. After all, I hate a fuckin' crowd. I clutched my cup as I walked through the doors. Yes, I bring my own cup. Fountain Diet Coke is fan-fucking-tastic in itself. However, Fountain Diet Coke in the form of a discount refill is, well, just plain orgasmic.

I rounded the corner to the fountain drink machine and not one, not two, but every fucking form of soda they had in that mother fucking machine was "out of order!" How does this happen? Is it technical difficulties or employee laziness? Judging from the amount of turnover in clientele in that store, I'm going to assume the latter. "You gotta be shitting me!" I said loudly as I turned and exited the store.

I jumped in the Blazer and drove an extra mile outta my way to another convenience store owned by the same company. Upon my arrival, I noticed that one entrance of the store was blocked by a large truck. I rounded the corner to an alternate entrance thinking I was home free. Unfortunately, there standing on either side of the double doors was 2 employees taking long drags off their smokey fags. "Of course." I groaned.

I sat in my vehicle thinking to myself about all those times my sister has warned me that I'm slowly killing myself with my Diet Coke consumption and the dangerous chemicals of which it is comprised. I'm always kind enough to remind her that at least when I DO eventually pass I'll already be embalmed.

Confused? Feel free to research the delicious additive,"Aspartame."

Without further hesitation and fueled by a burning desire to orally launch formaldehyde into my veins, I stepped out of my means of transportation and confidently made my way through the second hand fog and into the store.

What's another bullet in the chamber when you're continuously committing an apparent suicide?

Choppy Mental Seize Clarity

Another self inflicted thought process brought upon by my own weary mind has led me astray this time. I feel panicked. I feel odd and yet seemingly unaffected. I don't mind where I'm working now and yet I feel like terminating my own employment suddenly. It's as if a "walk out" is the most inviting entree on a very limited menu and I'm fucking starving. The dessert of course, would be freedom.

I'm not depressed, mind you. Fuck, I don't know what I am. Maybe I never realized I wasn't happy with myself until late last year. I know for a period of roughly 3 months, I wasn't Dale. I believed I could be on my way to dying...and not the kind of death where everyone says we will ALL encounter...eventually. My days literally felt numbered and believe me, I was neither prepared for "the" light nor infinite darkness.

Besides, life is all about the "gray" areas....Who says it's not the same in death?

Maybe I live inside my head far too often. Sometimes becoming enthralled with the big picture can result in mental paralysis. I've often lived vicariously through the eyes of those I care about the most. Maybe in doing so it was masking my own sadness and insecurities and I found happiness experiencing their supposed thoughts and visions.

Maybe it was just my own crazy imagination. Assuming that what I saw through their eyes was what they themselves were seeing. Maybe they were just like me. Maybe they didn't know who they were or where they were going. Maybe they were hoping "I" could lead...

Although I've often run aground, or just had the wind sucked right out of my sails, my ship has never actually sunk...

However, all who choose to remain aboard this vessel are strongly advised to keep their sense of adventure as well as their life preservers within reach.

There are still plenty of storms and choppy waters ahead...

Booze & The Pee-Nut Gallery

Irresponsible driving is something nearly all of us experience on the road on a daily basis. Some people tailgate while others drive contently with one foot on the gas and the other on the brake. On the interstate, it's not unusual to see people chatting or texting away on cell phones or applying make up while commandeering their vehicle at a docile 85 mph. I've even encountered a driver ravenously shoving food in his mouth with a fork from a plate in his lap.

I try not to get too upset when these people erratically block the path to my destination or make me late for work or one of my infamous speaking engagements. However, it pushes me to the absolute brink of insanity when I'm cruising along minding my own business and another's blatant stupidity causes me to spill my beer or even worse causes me to spill the contents of the cup in which I've just emptied my bladder.

Distance Of You And Me

Alone, I am in this empty space...
At least I know I can call it my own hiding place...
Please know that it's not that I am spiraling down...
I can always find myself lost and just as easily found...

Between us there is nothing but distance...
If given the chance, I know I'd be yours in an instant...
Yours is the soul I'd die to protect...
Engaged in life with you and the issues you project...

One thing I know is that you're not here with me now...
Giving me love and sweet misery like only you know how...
Gone are those beautiful emotions I came to adore...
Even when I was down on my knees scraping my heart off the floor...

And...

I have to remind myself every time I turn on the radio that you aren't hearing the same songs I hear.

And...

I have to remind myself every time I breathe that you aren't in the air I'm feeling near.

And...

I have to remind myself every time I look up that you aren't seeing the same sky I see.

And...

I have to remind myself every time I want to touch you there is nothing but this distance between you and me.

Who Is Reading Whom?

Because his approach was avant-garde in nature, the writer thoughtfully minced his words in order to directly bring about new meaning while managing to coerce his readers to interpret his musings for themselves in the way he envisioned.

It was a personal journey executed by a wordsmith and traveled by those who learned from him along the roads of perception, which he paved and they could no longer navigate because his hand was fixed firmly upon their wheels.

An Informal Meeting Of The Minds

"Wonder what they got good to eat in here?" he said to no one in particular with his beady eyes and unkempt hair hanging from his baseball cap.

If you're like me and you frequent convenience stores, then you know it's not unlikely to see a person of this stature. You also know it's not unlikely for them to announce such proclamations the second they walk through the door. I watched him meander aimlessly down each of the aisles and I felt obligated to tell him, though apparently not enough to actually do so through voice, that MY daily D.O.C. is the 44 oz. "The Big Chill" cup filled to the rim with a fountain Diet Coke. I was wondering if he'd pick up on the "vibe" and follow my lead, but alas it became painfully obvious that telepathy wasn't his bag as he continued his journey past the fountain machines with not even as much as a second glance.

It was then that I realized that this was a person with whom I would have absolutely nothing in common.

Analyzing The Reflection Of Self Inquisition

Another day and although I am beginning to feel like myself again, I can't seem to make eye contact with the person in the mirror. I know and understand this considerate soul and the things he's seen and experienced but as of late, there's something different.

He's no longer withdrawn from the things he perceived as hurtful and the hands that held me down. However, he's not lost focus of the fear I often feel.

At times he believes he can cry on cue. But, why would he give me that?

Again with the fucking questions.

Of course he overthinks situations and the moment is often lost.

He asks the things that only I can hear simply because he wants truthful answers.

Sometimes I can't answer the questions that he asks of me because I'm asking myself the same thing. It's a mental burden and it paralyzes me.

He wants validation that only I can give.

He gives adversity in the face of my sincerity.

He wants to speak and I want to be heard.

He wants to be asked how "I" am doing... I don't know.

...and he already should.