a little older, a little colder...

I used to be a cold man.  An exceedingly cold man.  I was dressed in so many layers, no one could see me.  Well, not no one...I have two children, and they were the only ones allowed to see me, or at least the good parts of me.

I spent the last year or so stripping away those layers.  After all those years, I showed myself to someone else.  It was a bad idea.

Now I'm stuck here, naked, exposed.  I'm trying to remember the layers, and put them back on as quickly as possible.  I think I'll become Chinaski again.  It's what I was, what I should have stayed.  Never get out of the boat.

I should have left a trail of bread crumbs...

When I was cold, nothing could touch me.  Nothing could break through the walls of ice I had arranged around myself.  I won't claim I was happy.  I felt nothing.  But the opposite of nothing in that universe is nothing.  And so the worst I ever felt was nothing. 

But when you feel joy, you also feel pain.  I had joy, sure.  But now I have pain.  And I'd rather feel nothing. 

It's been about two months now.  There were a few days of joy in there, one a week, but for the last few weeks, just pain.  I go to sleep with it, I wake up with it, it sits with me all day.  And I'd rather just feel nothing.

For now, sedatives are the key.  Regular small doses, enough to blunt my mind and push everything back below the surface.  Unfortunately, although this an easy fix, it's not much of a long term solution.  True, I am lucky enough to know someone who has a regular prescription and shares, but already I can feel it failing at times. 

The eventual solution is to remember.  Remember that I'm just a sack of meat.  I'm just an animal, no better, and most likely worse, than all the others.  Accept it, deal with it, know it, live it.  Evidently, it was what I was  made for...if I was made for anything at all.

That second conclusion is starting to garner most of my attention today.  As much as I like the notion of being placed here to be a prick, I don't even think I have that much of a purpose.  There really doesn't seem to be any purpose at all.  I'm just here, and I'm stuck here. 

And I can't die.  I've tried it, slow and fast - a handful of pills, or drinking and smoking myself to death.  I always end up still here in the morning.  So I'm giving up on that dream too.

I just have to remember how to be cold, all the time.

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