As I Went Out One Morning

Thomas Paine tried to usher in the Age of Reason. Hippies tried to usher in the Age of Aquarius. Then came me. All I can do is age.

I am filled with false hope at the moment. This might be due to the fact that the day is still young and nothing bad has happened yet. I feel like I’m trying not to be fucked up. Really, truly, I do. And I’m trying not to fuck up by fucking others up.

On any given day I feel like I’ve smashed myself on the rocks of indifference, like I’ve lashed myself to the wrong mast with the wrong sail and then headed off in the wrong direction. I’ve crashed into a lonely desert island, and am about to slide from the brine-slicked crags to vanish over the waterfall at world’s end. But today? Today, so far, I feel pretty alright.

It was in my teens that I made a terrible discovery. I discovered that a man could cry. That man was my father. His tears were for my mother’s brother. I’d entered the room to find him laid out on his bed, hands pressed over his eyes as if to hold them in. Really, he was only trying to hold in the pain. It seemed an unconscious act of self preservation, as if to prevent pain itself from seeping out and consuming him. But it was already too late. My father’s face was wet with tears and loss had clearly eaten him up from the inside. It was a powerful moment that unearthed deep, unspeakable things within me. I became afraid of dropping into that abyss at the edge of the earth.

Johnny Cash once sang about a man who couldn’t cry. The man had been like that for as long as he could remember, and when he finally did cry it rained for forty days and forty nights. Then he dehydrated and died. Then his family, friends and associates began to fall victim to horrific happenings and in some cases met a tragic demise. Is this really how it is if a man dares to cry? The world falls apart? Everything comes undone?

Okay, now it’s beginning to feel like the last days again, and hope is waning… but of course it would. It’s false. And time marches on, goose stepping like a hateful Nazi over the memories of once held dreams, over my carefully buried hopes and fears. I’ve learned not to cry in the presence of others but it isn’t always easy to be so scrupulously contained. Sometimes you cry in the worst place at the worst possible time. We’re not all machines. It just happens and there’s nothing that can be done about it.

Let’s face it, the older I get the more emotional triggers I find. Take right now for example. I’m walking past a church sign that says we’re ‘too blessed to be stressed’. It’s probably a good thing I don’t own a gun. Not that I’d use it. Not really. I’d just think about those self-righteous godomites and get myself all twisted up and spiteful inside. And then I’d slink away to take a Pepto-Bismol or two. Or three. Hell, guns make me nervous anyway.

No, it’s far better to dwell on other things. Happy things. Like puddles. Look, there’s one now. My very own sky hole in the ground. I could just step off and drop through to the clouds beyond if I wanted to. It’s the lure of transcendence. I fall for it every time. Who needs to get on a boat to disappear? Just do this. Only… well…

…I can’t.

Not really. Damn reality in all its bloody-minded literalness! God fucking damn!

Sigh.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

187 thoughts on “As I Went Out One Morning”

  7. Great piece ☺
    I feel like I’m trying not to be fucked up. Really, truly, I do. And I’m trying not to fuck up by fucking others up. – Wow, that hit home on the relatable scale.

    Loved the dashes of imagery like your own sky hole too.

    Liked by 6 people

    Reply

    • Thank you, Lion. I’m quite pleased that many of you can relate to the things that I expressed in this piece. Perhaps it means that I’m not a sad loser freak after all, eh? 😛

      Liked by 3 people

    • Super relatable. As a mum, i’m always conscious of how my bouts of depression might be affecting my child :/ But staying honest, and communicating our experiences as clearly as we can paves the way to greater understanding between us and our loved ones. Much love to you.

      And Tony, when you say “Perhaps it means that I’m not a sad loser freak after all, eh?”, indeed! Emotions are a sign of being human, and it’s so sad and frustrating that honest, authentic, expression of said emotions are still largely taboo in our cultures. It’s bad enough as a woman; i can only imagine how difficult it must be as a man, when here in 2016, men are *still* generally expected to never *feel* certain emotions, let alone express them. A lot of people out there are suffering in silence because of it, and feeling like ” sad loser freaks”. But the more people begin to speak candidly about their own experiences- as you have here- the more realisations there will be that none of us are actually Sad Loser Freaks, but rather: humans being human. So, thank you so much for this ❤

      Pardon the possibly convoluted comment here, btw, but this post really struck me the other day when i read it, it took me a while to formulate a response that accurately reflected my sentiments. That's a whole other area too, isn't it? Unless we were lucky enough to have been raised in a way that promoted it, most of us were never taught *how* to accurately express our feelings. That's one of the great things about writing, i suppose. It encourages some deliberation, and -hopefully- clarity.
      Anyway, pardon the thesis, but thanks again, and keep up the excellent work 🙂

      Liked by 4 people

    • No, your “thesis” is most welcome here. I’m beyond chuffed that something I wrote could resonate so deeply with someone. And you make a salient point about how one is raised to process and express their feelings. It seems that few of us have ever been taught to do this at all, let alone well. I think this may be because our parents’ parents weren’t taught either. It’s a sad case of affairs, and one that I sincerely hope that successive generations will learn to overcome. We need it because as long as men are taught not to be human then the more they (and women) will suffer. I really appreciate you taking the time to leave such a thought provoking comment! 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

    • Absolutley; we need to instill this awareness into the coming generations. I’m trying my best to help do my bit to ‘break the cycle’ in the way i bring up my own child.
      Aww, no worries. Thanks so much again for putting your feelings into words so well 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

  8. “Sometimes you cry in the worst places at the worst possible times.” only someone who has cried can write this or even think to write this….this is an amazing piece, i think if i read it over there’s still going to be something that snags the fish net over my heart.

    Liked by 5 people

    Reply

Unbolt your Comment!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.