Lose to Night

Sisu in the face of certain doom.

There’s no earthly reason why I should be feeling what I feel today. From when my head left its pillow my stomach kicked in. It’s a coil of snakes writhing and golloping me up inside. I can’t concentrate to work. I can’t let go and play. I can only churn times ten. I’m a tight knot waiting to unravel.

The years have seen many friends fall to this monstrosity at the middle of me. Emotionally, I’m just too high maintenance. I go out of my way to cover it up but at some point the façade crumbles. It always does. And then they see me for what I really am. And they get overwhelmed. And eventually they flee.

So now I lock myself away, waiting to unspool. Please, for the love of criminy, just let me unspool. I want to come unutterably and exhaustively undone. Can I rejoin society then? I’m scared of losing the two people I care most about in this world. I need to be safe. Or at least safe enough to handle.

It’s not about aggression. That isn’t why I sit in this room listening to my music. It’s about having something be louder than something else. I need to rumble the snakes out, to shake the bastards loose. To let heavy metal do its thing. Maybe it can save me from myself this time. No, seriously. As preposterous and overblown as that might sound—as metal might sound—just… just save me.

I hear the voices roaring from the speakers. I feel them thundering from beneath the earth, drowning out my insides. And even as I lay buried, my roiling innards will not be silenced. So I scream too, adding my voice to this cognitive and sonorous dissonance. It’s never been about aggression. It’s always been about survival. About letting people know I’m still buried down here. Sleep is so stupid and wasteful. I have to live. I want to live.

I see you, you things inside of me. God, you’re beautiful, but you’re sick. I know what you are. And I know you cannot have me. See? I’m lobbing a Molotov. I’m torching you, motherfuckers. I will not lose to night.

Yeah. Sisu. Sisu in the face of certain doom. That’s what I choose.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

83 thoughts on “Lose to Night”

  2. I’ve been away for a while getting settled in a new home. Excuse me for diving in. It’s difficult with this blog environment to know when a post is art, journal, or art instigated by journal. I get a little frustrated when I post something just because I wanted to write about angst, only to have friends start worrying about me. What you wrote is so evocative. I hope it’s story and not life for you right now.

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    • How are you settling in to the new digs, Nadia? And as for this being my life right now, it is certainly something I’ve learned to live with and manage. I remember a time when I was much younger and my mind was constantly filled with suicidal thoughts. Thankfully, that is no longer the case. I’m on a bit more of an even keel these days. 🙂

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    • I’m getting there, Tony. Still a little disoriented. But I’m hopeful that will dredge up and new lexicon and give me new stuff to write about. 🙂
      I’m sorry to hear your post was biographical, but glad things are on a more even keel. If it’s any solace, I’ve been there. It was a wild ride at times. But it does mellow and even become a rich vein of understanding running through your core. If you know what I’m trying to say…

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    • I do, and I feel like I’m on the cusp of this rich vein of understanding that you speak of, Nadia. It’s part of who we are, and as long as it doesn’t subsume us then it needn’t necessarily be the end or the only thing that defines us.

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  3. Oh my dear friend. As I read this passage, it reminded me of a time not long ago where I felt similar. Yet, the pain, most often than not, can be self inflicted. Our minds do us service and injustice, so we must choose the thoughts wisely. It is curious how I feel removed from this previous phase of my life…now, being so different. It is a quantum leap, I suppose. I wrote something just yesterday, for reasons you already may know. Here it is posted for you first – it is still ‘raw’. May it shake you to the core…roar, Tony, like thunder to shake the ground looses around you. Emerge as you are…Namaste, dear One.

    Let me fall so I can stand. Offer me your strong hands. Let me shake apart to keep what lasts. Hold me still, warm me naked and bare. Let me speak to whisper of all the thunder, roar within. Be gentle with the sounds you hum against the lyrics made while draped across my skin. Let me wander in the stillness to find my joy when it is lost. Keep me closer upon return as you linger in our laughter, after your kisses brand and mark. Let me be all I can while you stand near my warmth and comfort as I brace the storms. Knowing you will be the one who stays, the fire within my soul. Do as you do, lead me as I follow and cover me in your glow.

    zGGy | 01.25.17

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  4. “Emotionally, I’m just too high maintenance. I go out of my way to cover it up but at some point the façade crumbles. It always does. And then they see me for what I really am. And they get overwhelmed. And eventually they flee” Yep, me too. Or at last, that’s my fear, so i hide away and let nobody in lest that very thing happen. It’s very frustrating, as there is a genuine shiny side to me, but revealing it feels like so much false advertising, and when, inevitably, i can’t be that 24/7, i’m only going to disappoint people. So i hide that too, now. I’m the invisible woman. I only exist on The Internet these days. Sad but true. Better than not existing anywhere, i suppose.
    Music sure is a powerful coping mechanism. I’ve been finding solace in classical stuff lately, but appreciate many different styles and genres of music. I find metal to be cathartic. I’ve never really understood how people automatically associate it with aggression, either. I’ve been friends with -and dated- metal boys, and they’re a bunch of teddybears! Anyway, i hadn’t really listened to anything metally for a while, and hadn’t heard this, so thanks for sharing. I like the melody.
    I do hope a better day awaits you tomorrow.

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  5. Ah! Tony, every word you wrote resonates with me very deeply. I do believe I understand completely, and all I can think to say (rather pathetically) is, ‘I’m so sorry.’ In a slight variation of an above response, it seems to be the curse of all artisans. Why? Ultimately I do not know, but I think it has something to do with the origin of our creativity… We often write, draw, compose, etc. out of our pain. In the meantime, I really do pray you all the best with renewed peace! Be well, my friend!

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    • You’re a good egg, Mr Noble. Truly. I’ve always believed that some of the best art out there has had its origins in someone’s pain. It’s a way of crying out that compels people to look and, ultimately, understand. 🙂

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  7. Sisu. That’s a great word. It sounds as if you have the curse that a lot of us writers bear; the need to retreat as a form of self preservation…. and also to free our demons without ending up scaring our friends and loved ones in the process.

    You express yourself brilliantly, and music does quell the heart of the beast. Hang in there! xo

    ~PR

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    • It’s strange how it all works really. I often wish I was normal like everyone else, but then I quickly realise that what I go through IS normal… for me. So, in that sense, I’m no different. Ugh. It made sense in my mind. Never mind. Let’s just stick with what you said so eloquently, shall we? 😛

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  9. As the metal roared, I dug myself out of my grave. I found all the shards of me, and forged them back into a magnificent collage.

    I’m not a hero, I’m not made of stone. Definitely no angel.

    I’m just another face in the crowd. So if I can do it, you can too. Wear your scars like medals of hope, as we fight to the break of dawn!

    Havoc

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