Tuesday, January 20, 2015

In remembrance of my former life...

Jenks coughed his way through the hospital doors with me by his side. I was starting to think maybe he was the one that could use a little time in Intensive Care after the way he hacked a lung throughout the halls. We finally reached the elevator and stood await as it made its way down. Fifth floor, Fourth floor, three, two, one. I could feel myself starting to clench up. My stomach did it's best elevator impersonation as it dropped a few stories. Some interns pushed their way out with grimace on their faces, looking hellbent on finding some solace in a place far away from here. We stepped aboard and rode in silence to the 7th floor.
  "I better go in first, just to make sure she's stable and all is on the up and up." Jenks said.
  "Okay," was all I could muster when inside I was screaming for an escape. 
  I stood against a wall staring at some kitsch art fastened to the wall. It was an eagle soaring through the sky. It reminded me of a particular time with my father in the Catskills. We would watch the eagles and hawks circle prey from above and then nosedive downward until they captured it. I always wanted to be that free. I snapped out of it when a man in a white coat began talking to me.
 "Tom, right?"
 "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm Tom."
 "From what I've taken away from talking to Officer Jenkins, it looks like you were her last contact. Listen, Tom. Jenny was hit crossing the street. We put her into a coma to try and alleviate pressure on her brain, and so far everything is stable. What is your relationship with her?"
"Uhm, well, I, uh, we just kind of met."
"Then there's no easy way to say this. She came in alert, screaming for Tom. I am assuming that's you. Now, from what we can tell, she seems to be suffering from amnesia. To put it in the simplest terms, she only knows who you are."
 Shit. What can I do now? I've spent my entire life working to be absent during tumultuous times. Now I am thrown into the thick of it, deeply entrenched in a situation I can't escape.
"I don't even know who I am."

Part One

Part Two


Work In Progress (Me and You and Everyone We Know)

I was born with purpose. What that is, I'm still working on. Maybe the reason I grace this earth is the same reason I am writing to you. Maybe I am poised to be the voice for all the intricate souls like mine that vow to not lead a life of quiet desperation (thanks, Thoreau). Maybe the exact reason I was formed from the stars in the sky is to let you know you are not alone. Every day of your life has been another puzzle piece to the big picture, leading up to the moment when your seemingly uninteresting, bleak existence reveals its beauty. Maybe that's why I'm here. Maybe not. Maybe my puzzle is yet to be finished.

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Let's getaway
Find our center
Harness our chi
Do anything off the beaten path
That will allow us to stop grasping
For straws and make us take a glimpse
Into our hearts.
Let's search for the reason
We exist and continue a life
That will help us become whole.

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I don't know why I was made. I haven't found the solution to why I experience such highs and lows. My disposition towards the world is still shades of grey. All I know is there is vibrance in the universe, in each and every one of us. There is peace in the most volatile places, and there is goodness in hostile homes. And to me, that's what this is all for.

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The places we go and the people we meet all become a part of our story. No matter how short or otherwise insignificant an encounter may seem, these all become bits of our heart. Take on these moments with open arms, let the adventure find you. If for once you push instead of pull, the world might astound you.

Monday, November 24, 2014

A Taste Of The True Life

I've been at this fork in the road for some time now. Every second of every day I try and wrap my mind around which road to take to give me the life I imagined. It's utterly annoying and incredibly disheartening to be at a constant climax of what I think I need and what I truly want. The only problem with this situation is the actual pinpointing of what my wants are. I find myself good at a handful of things. I still have yet to find that piece of me that makes me shine. You might think I am being a narcissistic, self-loathing schmuck, but I refuse to let my grain-of-sand life become any more minor than it already is in the grand scheme. Maybe I struggle with the fact that being a grandiose gentleman isn't in the cards for me, but the main puzzle of my existence is finding that twinkling star in the sky that is meant for me. Finding it and holding it tight, never letting it gas out, and keeping the light shining. Perhaps this is just a part of growing into one's self. But who knows? We haven't ever crossed this bridge before. What I do know, so far, is that I won't stop searching. Wondering. Pondering upon life and death and everything in between that makes up this unique, common, tumultuous, wonderful world. And I won't stop loving.

-DD

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Pursuing Passion; A Vehement Attempt At Making Your Life, Your Life.

Having what we want, when we want it, isn't always on the agenda.
  Kid Dylan might beg to differ. Adult Dylan sees it as a blessing.

Do you know the sensation? Feeling like you aren't getting what you deserve. It happens everyday, to many people, in a multitudes of ways. You've got this killer personality, but members of the opposite sex breeze by without a second glance. You have all the skills to kill a new job, but a company passes. Your passion is strong, but it isn't getting you to where you wanna be. It's easy to blame other people, to blame politics, to blame blind eyes not open to experiencing your uniqueness. 
  It's been said time and time again, if you want something, go out and get it. While I believe this to be a  worthy viewpoint on life, I think there is a little more to the equation. You cannot simply strap on your boots, hit the trail, and expect it all to happen. Maybe what you lack, is the actual want for whatever it is you are setting out to do. Maybe that's just me. Some people know when they are kids. Others find their calling in college. Fireman. Police Officer. Doctor. Superman. Wife. Husband. Discoverer. I think I have yet to put a stamp on what it is my purpose for this world is. While we all have these idealistic ideas of who we are to become, my mindset fluctuates daily on who it is I am. 
  I want to wake up each day anew, making every sunrise to sunset a high-wire balancing act full of love, passion, people, and pure existence. I want to make a new trail, set it ablaze with some real, genuine, bona fide passion, and live a life that makes heads shake. No, I don't need to be remembered. I just need to know, when my head lays down for a final rest, that what I did was bliss. I guess my main point I am trying to comprehend to you is to not get bogged down within the limits you have put in front of yourselves. Maybe what you are doing just isn't what your heart was built for. Maybe your destiny is still out there waiting for you to find it. Don't ever stop seeking the freedom to truly be you.
   I know I won't. 

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Mirror Mazes; An ode to who we've become and who we really are.

This post might be the most ironic piece of writing to ever be conceived. Maybe I say that with a hint of arrogance, but I think you'll see it's going to prove my point.
  Our generation is currently going through what I like to refer to as a cosmic cluster-fuck of reliance. In the past, people were generally content with sharing good news with those closest to them. Hell, some folks even went as far as keeping it to themselves in order to stem the tide or to avoid being known as a contemptible schmuck. In today's society and the virtual companionship we have hitched our wagon to, it is nothing short of pedestrian to make it known how significant our lives are. From the awesome (but not as fetch as you make it sound) job you just landed writing for so and so blabbering about such and such to the new curls you put in your hair, (seriously, they're curls) all the while time-stamping your dog's every move and making sure you mention how you are destined to become the next Scott Conant given your expertise to whip up a helluva hamburger helper. 
  Documentation. This is what we will be known for. The desire to do things, not for one's self,  but in hopes of being lauded for it. We can sit back and blame the internet for making us this way. Making us feel we need the congratulations and the adulations and the commendations of every human within our virtual reality. In retrospect, I guess everyone likes to be praised, but there's a time and place to share how well-off you've become through you're hard work. To be at a constant need to have affection from twenty, thirty, a hundred people shows just how far intimacy has succumbed since the rise of Social Media. It's no longer about the swell things you accomplish, it's about the amount of people who applaud you for whatever it is you do.
  Live for yourself, not others. Have the grit to let your work speak for itself. Chances are, if it's any good, people will take notice. If you remove it fully, all this fantasy world, parade-in-your-name bullshit, you are still as dead inside as you were before acquaintance X admired you for completing task Y. Don't let yourself become a virtual reality, a mere fragment of what you are truly capable of. Instead, go out and get it, and let yourself know it is good. It is right. It is yours.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Visiting Hours

I awoke the next morning with a stiff neck and nausea. I wasn't sure if it was caused by the smell of sterility in the air or the news I received last night, but nonetheless I needed to escape. I walked down the hallway and out into the sunlight. The feeling of the brisk February air filling my lungs brought me back to life. Well, that, and Officer Jenkins standing next to his cruiser puffing down his Class A cigarette. This wasn't a dream. What was happening around me was very real. Sirens, gurneys, and blood escaping an elderly man's carotid artery. I guess this was my proverbial awakening. For someone who has been so akin to hitting the pavement and sprinting at the first sign of things getting too real, I vowed right then and there to let this one play out. Just as I aligned my thoughts, Officer Jenkins tipped his cap to me, so I strided off my perch and towards him. He was stomping out a smoke and popping in a Tums simultaneously as I reached him.
  "You thought anymore about last night son?" he said with a mouthful of saliva, from what I assumed was a side effect of him taking antacids like they are going out of style.
  "To be frank Officer, I don't think it has hit me yet."
  "Just call me Jenks from now on. You aren't under arrest after all."
  "Alright Jenks, what's the status quo now?"
  "Well, I guess my next question is, do you wanna see her?"
 I didn't quite know how to answer Jenks. He was used to these types of situations. Helping people through tough times and all that jazz. The most difficult thing I can account for is when my dog Jem died when I was 11. And to make matters worse, I didn't really even know this woman. I had this vision of who she was in my mind, but who's to know if she would even want me in the room? From what I can recollect from Jenks, Jenny had been through so much already in life. And I'm just this guy she had a study date with. A first study date. But since my name was in her planner, this is where I found myself. Standing outside Mass Gen, wondering where I'd be if none of this would have happened.
  "Son, she's looking for something. I don't know if it's a familiar face or a friend, but the way she looked up when I spoke your name, I think it might be you."
   I thought again for a second, looked back at Jenks and then spoke.
   "Can I bum one of those cigs?"


To be continued...

-DD

Monday, August 12, 2013

This is just the beginning?

  I've always had a history of disappearing when life got too real. I made sure as soon as something started to tug at my senses I kept it distant and slowly bounded away, safe and sound within myself. That was until I met Jenny my junior year of college. I was sitting in one of my many lectures fall semester and as casually as the sun rises, she sat down next to me. I felt a rush of initial lust engulf me at first, but by the time she spoke, my heart was hers. Such effortless elegance in the way she articulated her thoughts. She had a cavalier attitude that would make you think she'd rub people the wrong way, but nevertheless she was adored by all those that crossed her path, including me. It took me till finals week to finally muster up the manhood to say anything to her. Two agonizing months of me twiddling my thumbs and acting like a sorority girl before I finally opened my mouth.
  "Hey Jenny, you think we might be able to work on this together? I am a little lost on the last chapter," I sputtered out like a prepubescent schoolboy.
  "Sure, Tom. I'll meet you in the library around 6:30. You bring the coffee."
  Tom. That was my name? I had almost forgotten what it was, but the moment she said it, well, she brought new life to it. I anxiously awaited the time to come to meet up with Jenny. I stood in front of the mirror, practicing some lines like I was studying a Shakespeare sonnet, all the while watching time tick at a snail's pace. I decided to take a quick nap. After all, I told myself, I needed all my wits about me to even have a shot at wooing this one. There was a heavy knock on my door that awoke me at 7:56. I remember the time so vividly because what came after changed who I was forever.
  "I'm looking for a Tom Wilshire," a burly police officer said as I wiped sleep from my eyes.
  "Yes, I'm Tom."
  "Son, I think it's best if you sit down."


To be continued...

-DD