The Decline of Me

Most nights I can’t sleep. I just lay there shrouded by night, twisted in my blanket, drenched in cold sweat. Thoughts rush through my mind feverishly, blurring through my consciousness with tiring rapidity. I attempt to focus on them, but they dissolve at the merest notice. Sometimes I catch myself grinding my teeth in frustration, a salty hint of blood on my tongue.

Inhumed in this purgatory between dreams and the real, mentally meandering, I realize why a part of me doesn’t want to sleep. There is a sense of trepidation between the end of one day and the beginning of another. I would call it the terror of the unknown. After the tumultuous last few years, tomorrow only seems to offer less and less possibility. My idealism has been trampled by pragmatism. A divorce coupled with the loss of every material possession I once had has left me questioning the stability of tomorrow. Nothing is forever my subconscious whispers. Nothing is certain. I try to clear my mind and forget my unease, hoping that if I can shut down my cognitive faculties I can find some rest. It doesn’t help. I lay there locked in the waking world, tossing and turning as the minutes tick away.

The fatigue mercilessly tightens my limbs with a numbing rigidity stripping me of physical control. I feel weighted down by some unseen hand and become leaden. My body feels alien. It’s so ironic. I can’t sleep, yet my body can’t find the strength to stand.

Yet my mind becomes increasingly sensitive. My dull senses sharpen, and I hear odd things in the shadows. The foundation of the house moans from time to time. It is plaintive and pathetic, perhaps wondering what has become of those souls who wander through her. The wind shakes the windows, tapping time and again asking me to come join her. But I can’t find the strength to rise and let the wind pass me by on its evening trek.

My weary eyes wander around the room, amorphous shapes emerging from the inky darkness with time, dreams bleeding into reality. It lends a surreal touch to my surroundings. Stripped of form and substance, these shapes of lost day become primordial. The twilight filtering through the blinds give the silhouettes a mystical air; little particles dance like sparks in the moonlight, twirling angels falling from heaven. With the merest mental touch, I give these shapes form and meaning and for a time forget the exhaustive burden of consciousness.

My actions stir other senses. A stale, musty smell permeates the room. How had I missed that smell? There is something soothing to that sweet scent, earthy and natural. It brings to mind a warm, comforting softness I could lose myself in like the bosom of a lover. The tension leaves me, and I relax into soft pillows.

I swear I feel a tremor travel through the bed. It is a subtle quake that comes every time the world begins to fade. A sickness develops in my gut. There is something unnatural to this. Afraid to move, yet unsure why, my eyes frantically scour the blackness for what disturbs me. Then I see it, this thing that threatens to shatter my reason. I am unsure if it is actual or hallucination, my hold on reality is so tenuous at that state between wake and sleep, but I swear I see the shadows coalescing into a shadowy specter. This malignant thing hisses unintelligibly, standing at the foot of my bed paralyzing me with its cowled, condemning stare. My once quiet heart rattles painfully in my chest, thumping at my ribs and thundering in my ears. The breath catches in my throat and I choke. I close my eyes and will this thing away over and over, praying it obey. When I look again, all that remains is the empty night. I steal a breath and the night becomes more solid.

Turning to look at the clock, I curse the time: too short to sleep and too long until dawn. In futility, I force myself to rise, the bed creaking beneath my body. On unsteady feet I take to the hall. Despite the blackness, I know where I am going. Off to the right is the dining room and beyond that the kitchen where the fridge hums and the coils ping. I turn left trudging down that somber corridor passing door after door until I reach the bathroom at the end. I cross the threshold and close the door behind me. Flipping the switch on the wall, a spark blossoms before me which then grows into a dim, buzzing glow that finally flares into a piercing effulgence illuminating everything around me. I find myself surrounded by a soft, fuzzy whiteness.

I bow my head and turn the lever. The faucet gushes water into the sink and I cup as much as I can, bringing that soothing cold to my face washing away the lassitude that plagues me. The bleary world around me becomes stark. Without realizing it, my head rises, and I look in the mirror and see the touch of time. Once golden hair, lush and thick, has become tarnished and thin; a vague wisp receding back beyond my barren crown. Darkness shrouds my eyes, heavy bags weighing down my dulling, bloodshot emerald vision which fatigue has narrowed to slits. Then there are the lines etched into my face from too many frowns, smiles, and furrowed brows. Past emotions have etched a faint reminder of events long past, gradually digging deeper with each passing day. At the center of my face is my crooked nose which whistles plaintively from time to time. Beneath that are my dried, chapped lips. I can still remember when they were thick and soft. Now they are chewed and cracking. My visage has acquired a certain leanness, no longer plump with baby fat. My cheeks have hollowed leaving me with an emaciated, hungry look. I swear I can see a grinning skull beneath the wavering visage before me. But my skin is the surest sign a change is overtaking me. Once vibrant and solid, my flesh has paled and taken on a translucent quality. I can see right through myself; past the blue veins and thin musculature to the bone and beyond like I am nothing but insubstantial shadow.

Seeing this, I can’t help but think that I am gradually being eroded by time. I have hit the peak and am beginning the decline of my corporeal self. What I once thought immortal, this creation that is me, is now taking on mortal properties. I am withering away. I know I am too young to allow a fixation of age to overcome me, yet I can’t shake the morbid curiosity of watching myself approach ruin. It is as if, realizing that I cannot reverse the process, I instead have subconsciously chosen to run head on toward the precipice if only to fly briefly over the abyss before that final fall. I have embraced the decline in order to render its bitter taste palatable.

The process of aging reminds me of sculpting. One begins as this crude rock, untouched and virginal; capable of becoming anything. Gradually it is carved until the desired shape is achieved. This formless chunk of rock takes on characteristics, becomes something, finds definition. But life isn’t content to leave a masterpiece alone. It continues to chip away regardless of the cracks that develop. Maybe life is searching for that desired perfect shape despite the fact that such obsession leads to a whittling away of the closest approximation.

That is what I see in the mirror: a life which is ironically being consumed by living. Experiences mar my once smooth skin, a shade of stubble increasingly obscuring my youth. I trace the scar under my left arm where a tube was once inserted, the phantom pain of a collapsed lung causing each breath thereafter to sting. The sharp ache spreads to my heart, a stabbing pang that makes my eyes burn until warm tears pour down my face and spill into the cold sink below. Further misery is resurrected to haunt me, both spiritual and physical. Through that depressive vision I begin to see darker prophecies. My frail hand passes before my eyes, trembling weakly. Those boney fingers have become so slim that no ring could ever hold but instead slip off. Falling away, I see what remains of me. My small frame shrinks more and more every day, the weight just refusing to hold. The light of the sun, warm and benevolent, would pass right through me. I turn away, leaving the light behind on my way back down the murky hall. My steps lighten as I leave my thoughts behind until I seem to hover. I become more ghost than man; a wraith haunting the world. How long before even my reflection vanishes, and I am no more than a memory? And after that, how long until that memory fades to a dream forgotten on waking?

The nature of politics today

You know, more and more everyday and I am really being repulsed by the Republican Party. Now I am a moderate with some conservative leanings (belief in gun rights, capital punishment, small government, an end to welfare, etc.) with only a smattering of liberal views (belief in abortion, redistribution of wealth though through a VAT rather than an income tax). I don't believe completely in the power of rehabilitation. Certain cases, such as sexual assault and mental illness, I fail to believe in second chances. One cannot force individuals to take medication nor can one expect to ever rewire an individuals sexual proclivities. That is biologicial fact. The willingness of many Democrats to ease prison restrictions and make an inmate's life more comfortable than mine were for the longest time something that kept me at arms length. Now, the Republicans are truly beginning to piss the living shit out of me.

I was tired enough of listening to Bush blackmail this nation for years along the lines of, "If you don't do what I say, 9-11 will happen again. If you don't believe in me you aren't a patriot. You want your friends to die. You want our soldiers to die. Do what I say and don't challenge me." I heard enough of this BS in church where one isn't expected to think but to succumb. Anyone or any organization that does not believe in constructive criticism or debate knows they are not completely in the right, have a shaky faith, and probably shouldn't be incontrol. A problem cannot simply be solved head on. Bush has surrounded himself with sycophants who refuse to tell him alternatives, to challenge him, to make him govern effectively. With so much power in such mediocre hands is it any wonder this nation has gone into the crapper? Certain people laud what he has done but what I have seen is a system of divide and conquer used most effectively by tyrants.

Have you ever wondered why there is so much war in Africa? It is because of the historical culture built up by European efforts at colonization. Being the minority, the Europeans found ways to create groups and pit them against each other. It helped to prevent any group from rising up and threatening the artificial status quo created to benefit the few at the expense of the many. When the Europeans imploded following two world wars and left a vaccuum in their wake, Africa never recovered. I am afraid that this nation might be following that course. What was once a united country in one shape or form has grown more disparate, more fragmented, more hostile. Bush has used so many tools to ward our eyes from war to fear to patriotism: the tools of despots. He rewards those who support him, those power players who finance his campaigns and keep him squarely in authority. Bush sacrifices underlings to protect himself and the illegal activities that he does. Illegal wiretapping, spying, government contracts to corrupt organizations, torture, and worse. Bush uses the same scheme as Hitler: when something untoward is uncovered, of course he never knew about it. He is insulated by a layer of underlings. This administration is so rotten it is making me sick.

And now once great men are following his stead believing it will lead them to power. McCain, a man I once admired, has so sold his soul that I cannot stand to look at him anymore. He has become a liar (Baghdad safe anyone?), a conformer (belief in abortion and the Christian conservatives, a true pox on modern politics), and a syophant (Bush is right on the surge). Giuliani has become an echo of Bush policy (need for extreme government intervention to prevent 9-11, Democrats threaten the safety of this country, blah blah). These men are not fit to govern. I will not elect them. I cannot.



I refuse to go through another eight years of military involvement in what is a foreign government's obligation to right itself. Split Iraq into the three separate entities it is and allow those new nations to find their way. We didn't try to force Yugoslavia to remain a single entity. Tax breaks need to come to a close. In fact, I believe income tax should be set to a flat tax and a national VAT created so that the rich finally don't have a loophole to escape paying their fair share. They want to live like kings, pay the taxes on the goods that pleasure you so. No Child Left Behind needs to stop. A nation of test takers? There is a reason the educational system is decentralized: flexibility. Immigration: time to either start enforcing the laws or for these various employment opportunities to face up and move south of the border. I cannot defend anyone who breaks the law simply because they want a better life. Perhaps our nation, rather than continually throwing money away to buy influence abroad, should create an organization that provides microloans to Mexicans in their home country to spur on economic growth so that they will have no reason to come north to search out jobs only to be met by the backlash of a nation that fears them and their cheap labor. Time to own up to the Kyoto Pact rather than sell out to businesses who only think of the profits today rather than the environmental ruin of tomorrow. Financial accountability would also be nice. I have to spend as I earn. Why the hell should government have the right to continually spend more of my money without my say? Folks, I could go on all day.



Now, regardless of what I'm saying I'm not a Democrat. I believe them to be spineless, too idealistic and out of touch with reality, and far too willing to raise taxes to give to the "poor and downtrodden". Welfare wrecked this country. You give people money without earning it and it soons becomes an entitlement. I believe in the Pavlovian Reflex. If they stay poor they get paid. Why bother to work for something one can get for free? There is no incentive there. I believe mandatory sterilization should begin for all individuals on wlefare. If you can't take care of yourself then you have no right to do with your body something you have no right to. I also do not believe in total withdrawal from Iraq. The place is in such a shambles that with us gone it is no doubt that someone will try to step in (Iran, Syria, etc.). Then there are the candidates. Hilary is almost as bad as Bush, willing to lie through her teeth in order to garner support from anyone and everyone. Yeah, I trust you with this nation! Obama has gradually shown himself to be a political animal turning Virginia Tech into a chip on the political table with his statements meant to capitalize on that tragedy. Not even the decency to leave it alone. And since when has jobs being moved overseas been perceived as violence, Barack?

I'm telling you, if I had the money I'd probably move to fucking Canada. Canada! You see how insane I'm becoming!?!? Sure it's dull, quiet, and really empty up north but at least things still work there. And for those who call me a traitor to my country and get the hell out if I don't like it, I ask you this: if you are willing to accept something rather than do what is best for you and those around you, refuse to even try to change things for the better, unwilling to give back and improve the country that you so love, then how are you anything but freeloaders? If you aren't an active citizen, then why do you call yourself a patriot?