Sight From the Tempest

Everything is going up. Everything is fine. Everything is going as planned. Everything is fine, fine, fine.

Everything is going down. Everything is in chaos. Everything’s in disarray. Everything’s a mess, a mess, a mess.

It’s a tropical storm, hooray! I love storms like this. Pouring buckets all day. I find a break in it. It’s time to leave, time to stretch my wings and take flight from this broken home. I need serenity, like only the chaos of a storm can bring me.

Come the strong winds, come the debris amongst the road. Break in the rain, let’s see how far I can push it this time as I get my shoes on and get ready to go.

iPod on hand, I tune into something, a bit more soothing than befits the mood of the setting. It’s time to whisper mistakes to myself, time to brood in my thoughts. All of them are as dank and depressing as the weather… so why am I smiling?

The wind… it brushes against the back of my head, throwing my hair into my eyes as I survey thousands of falling palm fronds.

Past the store, don’t need to be there right now… perhaps I should stroll amongst the water, and see how things are by the river? Sounds like a wonderful idea.

The song I listen to speaks of something…

Remind me…

Remind me…

Push back deeper. Erin was the name of the storm. Why does a storm need a name? Bleh, it did nothing to the island. Still, I remember parting from it, drifting back to it late that same night to see the bridges closed. I couldn’t go into the island, even if I wanted to.

Amazing, later in life I would see that as a boon. Upon Merritt Island, only desolation waits for me. Where Dante wrote fiction of himself traveling to hell, I write fiction of myself traveling to Merritt Island… no difference in my eye.

Yet, for all the talk of how desolation waits for me there… I am wandering in desolation at the moment. The wind pushes at my back, and I welcome that. It is as though mother nature is trying to help me, help me get away from the mess I’ve just left behind. “Here I go” I think to myself, I’ll travel just as far this time as I did last time. It will be made so much easier now. The air is cool, and the wind is with me.

Ah, this will work well, I see people flee from this place, trying to scurry away to their homes amidst a storm not befitting of the name it’s been given. Look at them run! I am at home here. The wind is at my back, I am favored, and they are cowards.

There is much noise now, but it doesn’t bother me much. It is of orderly tone, where at home, it’s just worthless dissonance and poor communication skills. No one wants to be around anyone, they’re all so pissy and petty. Fuck all of ‘em. I got away, even for this brief moment. This is hell for some, but to me? Hah… I smile, and I push on.

All this stuff, it’s overwhelming my brain. Can you see the storm coming? It’s coming this way.

I don’t know much, I don’t know too much… but I know this… shit is fucked up!

Chaos, destruction, mass panic, ambulance just passed me, wind getting stronger, pushing me further, palm trees quake and flex, some twisted dance they perform during this kind of weather.

I’m spurred by thoughts I’m not fully aware of, but I know the feeling, the impact I get from them. Were that I could, I would stand on the top of the tallest building in this area, and scream at the storm, begging for more.

I look at the water in the river, it’s frothing and churning, chaotic and unstable, splashing higher than people are used to. They see this as a bad sign. I see it as a lovely indicator of things to come. I’ve sought this quite moment to make my escape… but I’m unaware that the storm has just begun, and all I’ve seen today is but a taste of things to come.

Come, throw it all at me! The wind is at my back, I am favored.

It’s all breaking apart… I see it now. I stand in the middle of the street for a moment and look at a tumbling stop sign, traffic lights swaying like an apple upon a branch.

I know why I feel so welcome in this…

It’s all broken. I’m watching people hide from this all, but I thrive in it. They don’t want to face things when they all fall down. It’s all I’ve ever known. Take the foundations, rip at them, leave a mess…

I know that feeling. Living in chaos, dealing with so much destruction… I see a mother and her child running under the cover of an umbrella not too far from me, seeking shelter.

And it feels like today… so just hold on tight, and let it slip away.”

The clarity comes the same moment the rain begins. I turn around, and with that simple motion, switching directions… the wind is now my foe. I turn the iPod off, and I hear how furious the wind has truly become. I lean into the wind, and begin my trek back.

Today has been covered in misery… so why am I still smiling?

The rain picks up, and it moves from a steady drizzle to a fierce downpour. The wind picks up again. I see no one. No cars, no people, nothing. All shops are closed, I am the only person outside it seems.

The rain beats at my face, stinging my cheeks and adding unneeded weight to my clothing. I keep my head down and keep pushing forwards. The wind is fighting me, it’s keeping me away from that hellish pit that I must live in. Why am I fighting this weather, it’s pushing me away from a place I never want to be within, and I’m fighting it.

Amidst all of this, I smile. I worry for a moment even that I’ve started laughing out loud briefly. Have I lost my mind? Some puddles rise high enough to make it difficult to slog through. They weren’t here when I started walking, so I guess that speaks to how much rain has fallen so suddenly. With the wind battering me, and my feet sloshing through the water, it feels as though I’m swimming against a current.

It’s pushing at me, keeping me away from all the bad… so why do I fight it? The flow wants me to keep going, to avoid the place that causes me so much inner pain. I’m fighting it, and I’m smiling.

There’s a figure in a reoccurring dream I have that smiles… he scares the shit out of me. Does my face look similar to that now? How interesting this picture must be. Soaked, fighting the wind, and a twisted grin played across my face as the only sound that comforts me now is the howling of the storm.

This storm isn’t worthy of a name. It can’t kill me… it can’t even do so much as make me bleed. So many fear it like it is the end of times, but I see it for what it is. It is only here to water the grass and the trees.

I walk home. Regret playing across my mind. I should have kept walking. Could have found some shaded spot to sit in as this all passes over… I could have just kept listening to music and embraced the weather. Now I’m fighting it.

Just wind, and a rain maker. I can conquer this tempest… even though I should be embracing it. I keep walking, and the distance home seems twice as long now. Each step taking far more effort than before, the wind keeps telling me, whispering to me, “go the other way!”

But I will not yield.

I smile.

But then I get home… and I don’t smile so much anymore.

I just sit on the porch with the cat… and wonder even more, why did I bother to return?

I had been praying for a storm like this for some time… so now I’m just sitting here, watching it pass me. I think I shouldn’t have fought against it. Be it if I reject order, then why have I rejected chaos?

Some flooding will be all that remains of this storm… but in my head… it lingers far longer.

It’s not worthy of a name… just a storm.


Tags: , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: