Since I ducked out for a decade, it would only make sense to spend a decade in repair. Five years of that decade were a strange, rabid-reboot mode. The other five? A foundation.

A foundation for what? Balance.

For what comes next; this, tomorrow, and so forth.

If life begins at fifty, then everything before that was rollercoaster nightmares, deaths, and rebirths, solidifying a foundation for what remains.

As the body fails to respond less and less, I’d like to spend more time reminiscing on what’s come before. My final words could and will fill volumes. Perhaps someone will read of these wacky philosophies and apply them to the remainder of their own lives one day. I think what I wanted to be long before a horror author was the guy in M. Night Shyamalan’s “Lady in the Water” film.

He was a no one from nowhere whose philosophies inspired revolutions beyond his death. That’s way better than being Stephen King, and being Stephen King is top-tier. To boot, I’ve discovered much in the last few years regarding my DNA, heritage, and mental health. Now, all these years later, when I say totally screwed up stuff, I know why I’m saying it! I still don’t care, but I know why I’m saying it.

To be accepted into the oceanic flow of the gonzo life, one must be able to express themselves through the utmost honesty. You can’t be living a lie and writing authentic. Suffering behind the facade of the spooky horror guy left much to be desired, but I wasn’t allowed to speak of personal matters. There were too many interfamily conflicts and legal fiascos, not to mention what I was allowed to do in the name of my local law enforcement persona. The alcohol had taken over by the time I peaked, and the details get a bit fuzzy beyond that.

In that ten years, I’ve lost family and friends; all but a handful. Some to death, some to politics, some to stupidity. Some of my choosing, some of theirs. Like all things before, I took it personally. In hindsight, most I view from afar have gone through the exact same things. We’re hardheaded as a species, and we hold strong to our convictions. It takes a life shattering event to fracture years of traditional, regional, and spiritual grooming disguised as joyous existence.

Army boot camp was when it happened for me. When my time was up, I returned home with a pretty believable mask. I would continue to wear this costume until the opportunity presented itself for me to seek the spiritually enlightened and like-minded souls abroad. Then I went to New York City for the first time.

It’s the only place I’ve ever felt god, whatever that may be. A mix of cultures, ways, and energies only experienced before through fantasy settings. What did I see? The majority of it was performed peacefully and respectfully, contrary to what the filters of my upbringing would have me believe.

Why would society tease children with the lessons and illustrations of Dr. Seuss if they didn’t want us to freak out when we saw it with our own eyes?

Perhaps it was less of an awakening and more of a realization regarding conservative betrayal. An entire section of society kept me from truly living for the first twenty years of my adult life, and I’ve got a ton of catching up to do.

Baby steps, though. Baby steps.

Let’s write it in a way we can all understand.

Some dude begat my job begat my travels begat my writing career begat my awakening begat my destiny. I bow in respect to said dude, wherever he may be in this moment, for inadvertently nudging me out of the next. That first step is a doozy!

I’m unsure if it was bravery or random Gump-ean luck.

I think that’s how Trump became president twice.

Trump.

Gump.

Wait a second…

You don’t think…?

Be damned if life isn’t just like a box of chocolates. I wouldn’t like suddenly waking up to random nuts in my mouth either. That’s why I only buy the boxes with those guide inserts.

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