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When I left Cherokee an hour ago it was raining. It's still raining and it's raining here in Asheville where I've decided to stop until I continue on to where I'll be dealing tonight. It's dark and gray and you know how much I love that. But sometimes the rainy weather can offer adverse effects to my mood and my feelings about life. As I drove along US-74 and the downpour pelted my windshield, I gazed at the fog filling the gaps between the hills and covering the peaks of the mountains, and against my better judgment, I reflected. Not so surprisingly, I was listening to Iron Maiden as I drove and I started thinking of listening to their Seventh Son of a Seventh Son album when I was 15. I would listen and listen, especially on the weekends, closet light sneaking through the gaps of the door, dimly lighting my bedroom. Their music and lyrics always intensified wonder in my mind and restlessness in my soul.
Those times were emotionally tough for me. It was about five years after quite a traumatic occurrence which, little did I realize when it happened, would shape much of my life to come. Unfortunately, I had to witness something that ripped my heart out and I had to intervene and basically save someone else. I shouldn't have had to go through that at age ten, but I'd certainly do it again. I am, in fact, still tortured by those events even though I very rarely think of them directly. When I do think of it, I'm always amazed at my precise actions and my attention to detail and I wonder how I could have possibly had the presence of mind to carry out
such a task in the middle of the night at such a young age.
It was also about five years before I would make my very own mistake that would also afflict me throughout my life. That mistake is torturing me now more than ever and the effects of it have become complexly intertwined with the repercussions of what happened when I was ten years old. What happened when I was ten wasn't my fault, but although influenced by the earlier incident, what happened when I was twenty was.
The past will always haunt me. I can't seem to find a way to let it go. Maybe I need professional help, or maybe it's too late for that. I try to learn and I try to think it out, but the struggle is enormous. And that leads me to the fear of a foreseeable future. As I continue to live and make mistakes and torture myself by agonizing over things I cannot change, I fear I may be setting myself up for an altogether miserable existence thirty or forty years from now. If I have so much heartache now, what will it be like when I'm seventy or eighty years old and I realize I have no time left? I am scared to fucking death of that, not to mention the fear of being, and dying, alone. On the plus side, I appreciate the emotional pain. On the other hand, how much can I possibly endure?
Look into our face reflected in the moonglow in your eyes
Remember you can choose to look but not to see and waste your hours
You believe you have the time but I tell you your time is short
See your past and future all the same and it cannot be bought
Take my eyes for what I've seen
I will give my sight to you
You are free to choose whatever
Life to live or life to lose
Whatever God you know
He knows you better than you believe
In your once and future grave
You'll fall endlessly deceived
The preacher loses face with Christ
Religion's cruel device is gone
Empty flesh and hollow bones
Make pacts of love but die alone
The crucible of pain will forge the
Blanks of sin begin again
You are free to choose a life to live
Or one that's left to lose
-Iron Maiden, "Starblind", The Final Frontier
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