PastPoop
6/12/2003-Defeatism-The Real Chicken Soup for the Soul
I've been dancing around this subject for a while, and now I believe
that it's high time I took the loaded gun that is GruntPlop and blow the
contents of my brain out all over this webpage.
I've never been a person that gives up easily, if at all. So when a challenge
has been issued, I will fight till my very last breath of air. Sometimes
this is beneficial. Many a time I have crawled out of a gutter that I
was left for dead in because I refused to give up. I have also driven
myself to the edge of insanity for basically trying to squeeze blood out
of a turnip.
These past few months I've been fighting a battle, and I didn't realize
who I was fighting. I thought I was fighting for the heart of a certain
girl, but in reality I was fighting with myself. When I realized this,
I knew that there was only one way to win.
I had to lose.
I had to lose to myself in order for me to win, and I have to admit in
a way it's soothing.
I'd equate it to being burned alive, once you get past the pain it's
nothing but warmth and the release of your flesh as it is consumed and
turned into cinder. A fire fueled by all your passions, hopes, and desires
for yourself and the one you love. As you let all of it go, you watch
in awe at its majesty.
In the book of my life I'm sure this event will be marked in red ink
like the day my dog Dusty died. She was an old dog, and I was worried
that I didn't love her. It pained me that I seemed to be indifferent toward
her existance. One morning I came outside and I saw her lying on the ground.
She had another stroke and couldn't get up.
On the trip to the vet's office she died in my arms. Like an old clock,
she slowly wound down, finnaly exhaling in a relaxing sigh. The life in
her eyes had faded; she was gone.
I cried.
It took her death for me to realize how much I loved that goofy dog.
It was also comforting to know that she died happy. She was off that gawddamned
chain she hated, and hopefully being with me when she passed brought her
some joy.
So like a plane plummeting from the sky, I await the final crash. I now
understand why 90% of the songs out there are about love. Hopefully a
part of me can stand back and watch the flames, admire the impact crater,
and most importanly walk away.
She was everything to me, but I don't know if I was anything to her.
The only thing that I regret was the fact that I never told her. We have
one last dinner ahead of us. I've made the arrangements with her, and
hopefully I can write a beautiful epitaph for the love that I held for
her.
-BarnyardMessiah
P.S. Claudio Acuña, you're still an Asshole. Post A CommentRead Comments |