aftermath

my knees are in the sun. burning, i’m perched on top of a benchpress, slouching, lazy, out on this clean balcony. beside empty beer bottles, half nibbled food bits and used party plates. my eyes squinting, trying to find the light and letters on my screen against the glare of the sun. how long since my last day off? the manager who made this all possible. kudos, in every sense of the word. can you sense it?

i’m waiting. as a son. for answers, for love to cross my path. for humans to demonstrate the love of God, my father. for how else will i know, if these prototypes don’t respond. ideations and affections passed down from generations. mine got disrupted too early and till you hear the story, lend me your shoulder, your strong back to rely on. the smell of strength and resolve. the hum of confidence invading my privacy, to calm my heartbeat underneath my skin. to bridge me to belief that this theory is not just some myth-stery. that this boy can be a father to his next of kin.

spent the rest of the afternoon laying my dirty cards before a senseh. a generation before me. to let our paths cross and let her wisdom permeate this being. she’s got a gift. i didn’t feel threatened to speak freely, of abuse, drugs use and a childhood confused. she told me to write on. songs and journals and channels that will drain the poison within. she told me to write as i worship. worship and pour out. breathe the blueprint of our Lord’s prayer in place of a spiral condition. that restoration is already at the helm of my crown.

this is one more day i step forward, believing, against my morbid imagination. a fever is still running, but history will soon unfold.

for now, my focus narrows onto the surprising gift i received yesterday. a celebration. as i see it, a beginning of lasting friendship. a continuum. it represents not just a great idea but almost an expectation that i would spend this summer out in the open sea or somewhere near it. definitely an unashamed promise of company, wine, cheese and sun kissed complexion while waiting for the bait to harvest in a good catch.

i may be the third wheel, as always, but weaning off the lithium for the bipolar is perhaps the long term solution for my mild disorder. let’s go fishing, mthrfkrs.