Night Reigns Supreme
As I continued searching for places to hide from that which I could not see yet it militantly guided my life, I begun to suffer from severe overdoses of insecurity, I had to wonder if destiny suffered when we, the executors of his plan collapsed into insecurity.
My destiny had seen fit to lose me many loves, to deprive me of an anchoring family tree, now I confronting it as a free radical had to face the tribulations required by my self appointed task. My stomach developed bleeding ulcers; ulcers, that is the idea that my stomach was becoming self absorbed, that it was digesting itself was acceptable. Instead it was the nagging pain produced by the consumption of my stomach lining, the cramping, the holding of my stomach by my arms in a futile attempt to squeezed the pain away, that only served to bruise me, and cause me more pain, different kinds of pains. These pains told me stories of how my drinking alcohol would only serve to irritate the ulcers, to exacerbate painful behavior to intolerable levels, which meant the most egregious of all: I drank to dull the agony of life, to dampen the tragedy, I drank so that my mind could survive, I drank so that I could fill my solitude like wine fills an empty glass with meaning. I drank but now drinking became a choice of brutalities. If I drank I could drown my liver, and the liver is where the receptors of life’s agonies are hidden; or I could stop drinking so as to halt the ulcers from advancing mercilessly in their cause against my stomach. Night reigns supreme. The pain of life or physical pain those were the ends of my dichotomy, splitting the nervous system.
My hair took to falling at an accelerated pace, it could win races against gravity to the ground. And there was this disturbing drying of my skin, patches of dry skin would spot themselves throughout my flesh. I was waiting in horror for a terrible illness to overcome me. A friend seeing my desperation told me to seek the providence of God but God never came into my life, I did not open the door and he did not bother to break it down! I took longer showers, I slept more hours, so many that I became buried in my dreams. I was going to bursts into tears...
My destiny had seen fit to lose me many loves, to deprive me of an anchoring family tree, now I confronting it as a free radical had to face the tribulations required by my self appointed task. My stomach developed bleeding ulcers; ulcers, that is the idea that my stomach was becoming self absorbed, that it was digesting itself was acceptable. Instead it was the nagging pain produced by the consumption of my stomach lining, the cramping, the holding of my stomach by my arms in a futile attempt to squeezed the pain away, that only served to bruise me, and cause me more pain, different kinds of pains. These pains told me stories of how my drinking alcohol would only serve to irritate the ulcers, to exacerbate painful behavior to intolerable levels, which meant the most egregious of all: I drank to dull the agony of life, to dampen the tragedy, I drank so that my mind could survive, I drank so that I could fill my solitude like wine fills an empty glass with meaning. I drank but now drinking became a choice of brutalities. If I drank I could drown my liver, and the liver is where the receptors of life’s agonies are hidden; or I could stop drinking so as to halt the ulcers from advancing mercilessly in their cause against my stomach. Night reigns supreme. The pain of life or physical pain those were the ends of my dichotomy, splitting the nervous system.
My hair took to falling at an accelerated pace, it could win races against gravity to the ground. And there was this disturbing drying of my skin, patches of dry skin would spot themselves throughout my flesh. I was waiting in horror for a terrible illness to overcome me. A friend seeing my desperation told me to seek the providence of God but God never came into my life, I did not open the door and he did not bother to break it down! I took longer showers, I slept more hours, so many that I became buried in my dreams. I was going to bursts into tears...
posted by Ricardo Correa at
2:26 PM
