Life, In Rewind

~I~

. . .Another all nighter. Who would of thought? As days pass by, sometime I ponder the last. The how. What's in my days gone by, which define my here after?


Felt uncomfortable again. Placed within a realm which I've felt many a time before. It draws me in. I have not the courage to deny the curse. The burden. Addiction. An evil affliction.

Minutes seem to be hours. I remain un-still. The anxiety reflects the complexity this life bares. I remain an exaggerated concern. Now I'm finding myself amongst immortal souls. Comfort. Yet not prosperous.

He and I stand quiet. As another stands alone. Not to be apart of our morbid carnival. We romance the dead. This he and I at arms with a valued relic. The relationship, I felt lonesome ; yet so engaulfed, endangered. Un-harmed.

That day so much like the rest though. Almost premeditated.


Played out like clock-work. Late to awake the next day. Just the norm. My theory, "It's easier to sleep, then deal with another bad day." Still the anxiety full-fills me.

Somehow i have developed a close relationship to death. Comfortable, reliant. A resource to sweet slumber. Only here i feel complete comfort. Almost euphoric. Yet Un-aware. I've lost myself inside where i hide.

So another day vanishes. I'm stuck in time., This time, i look back into my tattered life. My short history i explore.

Days feel more like weeks. With emotions scattered throughout. A day in the life of a devious mind.

~ II~

Looking back now, I do not remember so much from my distant past. What i do though is not glorified. Parents separation, torn pre-adolescent boy, made to forget his roots, and bare another identity.

Made to front. A facade. As he flashes false colors through a very defining point of his life. Did anyone even see him? And if so, who cared? Who was there to see the unguided boy, grown into a mislead man? With no direction. Lost to this day forward. Disobedient. "Ruled, with nothing to govern."

. . . A lost chapter.

~III~

Redefined. Some years down the line, he finds relief. In isolation. One adolescent boy, stolen. He wants so bad to become one of who he see's in various places. School, malls, the girl he longs for, the popular kid he adores. Young country-bred teen always ignored. Pushing his way into situations, is not a trait he knows well.

Extracurricular activities and after school events not an option. Friends far and few between. Neighbor kid across the street seems odd ; yet he has a basketball hoop. And the fat kid up the road is sluggish ; not my style of character.

So i ride my Dyno BMX alone, often. Before it gets stolen that is. I make my way up the hill of Vacation Lane, to the Antique shop. With a few dollars Mom could spare for a snack at school. I'd save it for a pack of football cards and stale chewing gum inside the package. My outlet.

Each day on i would find myself drifting further and further away from Vacation Lane. In search of another outlet. Un-enlightened, this would become a trend further down the road of this game called life. .

~IV~

Fifteen. By this time I'm on my second relocation. Mom's now interested in marriage again ; I'm introduced to a very new way of life. Another lifestyle ; no longer the only child. With a half-brother and sister means i will only receive half the love i am used to, perhaps less.

How do i react? IS it wrong i am physically attracted to my new step-sister? Is it right i do not get along with my step-father? Judging from these trials, it's going to be a rough-and-tumble ride from here.

~V~

High School. Perhaps the most pivotal era of my life. The time most young men are to find themselves. . . I'm finding it hard to do so. Urban life. So many different directions to choose, where do i go? Which clique should i follow? What rules shall i obey? This shall be the most rough Chapter yet to complete, thus far.

I recall the neighborhood kids. A very diverse bunch. Blacks, Whites, Korean, Jews all together. I have found this to be very common in Northern Virginia. Getting used to it, another thing all together.

~VI~

You could say i was quite sheltered in my childhood ; adapting to these changes was no easy task at hand. From what I'd encountered even in Middle School, I knew i would have to play my cards right. New style, new lingo. Mind my P's and Q's around certain company, do not speakout in some situations. To me this sounds like growing up ; maturing.

Grades start to plummet as i gain respect. Street cred, if you will. Like dynamite in the palm of my hand. Learning and gaining respect of peers, but how? Skipping classes, smoking, allowing strangers into my house during snow days outta school. For? Attention? Cred? Can i make friends with the cooler kids by allowing them inside my house to eat up all the food we cannot afford anyways? Or drinking up all the alcohol my mother and step-dad enjoy on the weekends for there days off? This isn't cool, this is ignorant behavior. I've picked up somewhere, somehow. . .. Grandma would be dissapointed in me.

~VII~

So, it does not take long for mom to catch on to my un-ruly behavior. And the demise of my good time. This gives me time to think about how much of a child i still really am. Still carrying bag lunch mom packs in the morning for me. Still got that little snack money. sometime. Still crave the tickle-backs and Un-conditional love, all given by? Not the guy i let eat all my munch meat for my brown-bag lunch the next morning. Or the guy that likes to slap the back of my neck aftewr a fresh hair cut, to show-off for his "cooler" friends. Nope, none of them. The whole time i was blind to see just who my real friend was. . . .My best-freind, my Mom.

If only i would just have opened my eyes. Just maybe I could have realized then what i know, and am looking back on now. . What i could have saved. . . Shame.

~VIII~

It's as shame what kids will do. What they will sacrifice at any instant to achieve what they try to define as "cool." The epidomy of everything sad. It get's worse. .

~~~~The Past~~~~~

~I~

So just a few more years go on till the next move. My mother and her husband saved enough money to get that Single family house they'd wanted for sometime. If i could only express in words how excited my mother was to get that from double-wide, Rural, boone-dock, fuck-my-dad, place in the hills to. . . Up the corporate ladder, FannieMae salary bringing, White house, with the picket fence shit she always wanted. But i can't. Nothing allows me to express the joy for her. I can only express the emotion my heart still holds, and the look on my Father's face as she took me away that day.

. . .Now is when i will express the true sentiment I carry day-to-day.


~II~

That day ; only a few years passed since my Grandfather died. At the tender age of Ten. I was gathered in from playing outside, alone, yet totally in my element for sure. "Rob, Dad and i would like to speak with you inside for a second." I oblige. Dad sits somber in the far corner of the room. As Mom trails me into the very grave atmosphere. I just cannot grasp what type of reality was about to strike. "Rob, your Dad and I aren't happy together anymore," emotion, bewildered. "When parents can no longer be happy together, they separate." Affection at this point, confused. I remember the look that made it's permanent fixture on my soul. My Father's eye's and my own match. The look of absolute sorrow, hurt. Pain, like someone just stole the most important, consequential, meaningful years right away from my Father's hands. "Grandaddy will be here tomorrow with the pick-up to gather us up for moving."

. . . . . .And that was that.

From that day on, I was lucky to see my Father on major Holiday, and during Summer vacation. It just wasen't enough ; to this day i hold reservation.


~III~

So about that sentiment. Now being older, and more mature about the issue, I understand more. It just would not have been a wonderful life to live with two parents who whole-heartedly did not care for one another. Unfair. Mom got what she always wanted. She resides now in KeyWest, Florida, on her third marriage. Happy, loved, and so far away.

On my fathers behalf, I just dont know. His alcoholism and over protective denigrate demeanor has not changed in the slightest. Like everyone, all he ever wanted out of life is to be happy.


. . . . .That chapter still untold.


Told in narrative fashion By:

DKInc.