“Gotta keep a moving on/gotta keep a rollin’ round/I’ve been smoking that old whiskey down/ it’s like a lost case of being found/like a head full of come unwound.”
Lost Case of Being Found – Scott H. Biram
You ever have one of those moments where you found yourself completely lost? Not that you were really ever found, but there’s that unsettling feeling that the ground beneath you is so amazingly unfamliair as to render your senses lost. Even with a good internal compass…lost.
I find myself in that situation as we speak. A divorce pending, a deployment pending, a custody battle pending, a future…pending.
Where do I go from here? That’s the question, right? And the question is filled with more questions and really, I’m not sure I want to answer any of them.
I’m usually pretty good at knocking the pillars down, pulling the carpet out from underneath my feet, starting over…it’s the whole military kid thing, the “adapt to anything” sort of vibe. But, maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s my frame of mind…really only God knows and truthfully he’s not giving many answers to my prayer these days. Hey big man, where are you? I could use some help down here, but apparently you’re busy on another call. It’s OK, I’ll wait, I’m used to it. Besides, I sure as hell know you got more important things to deal with than my petty stuff.
It’s a void. Look not into the abyss for you might be disturbed by what looks back at you. Hell, at this point, I’d give important, delicate body parts to have the abyss stare back at me. Probably better then this bottle of vodka or whiskey that I currently call friend.
Good friends, they make the pain go away, at least for a minute. It’s hard to really feel anything with the passion I’m used to when you’ve become so numb to everything around you.
Everything seems like a fight, a mounting of the ramparts and frankly, it’s damn tiring. You can only go at 110 percent for so long before you just need to waylay at some location for a night’s respite. But where is it? I lost the map.
You can only fight so many fights, you can only be righteous so many times before all those around hacking and slashing wear you down and knock the wind out of you.
Even Superman had his kryptonite, and I’m no Superman. Always fancied Batman more anyway, but even there, who am I kidding. But even Batman had Bane. No worries, if you ain’t following me here, it’s all good — Just means you aren’t a geek like me, strike two, I’m out.
Friend loses a job. Two kids to feed…nothing on the horizon. Where are we? Where are we all? Another friend loses a job…what a turn of phrase. Loses a job? No, really they know where it’s at, it’s just that door isn’t open anymore.
We’re all in a very weird sort of place. I can’t imagine anyone is really comfortable where they’re at. The axe is always looming, the pink slip a day away. Terrible place to be — this combination of blandness and blindness makes you want to do something crazy. But what? Better to be meek?
I don’t know.Powered by Sidelines