Sometimes it’s emotional and sometimes physical but it’s pain nonetheless. I read somewhere that pain can be a good thing a way for me to know when I am at or close to a limit. Who would have thought? Yes there is even a good reason for pain.
There is a huge part of me that doesn’t even want to talk about how bad my back hurts. I just want to ignore it as is that is a means by which to make it go away. I really love climbing, but I also love living without pain too. I realize that I am hurting myself. I am putting myself through unnecessary pain, but nothing new there.
I’m not stopping. Fuck it. I’ll live with the pain. Why does that sound so familiar? Ha. Ha. Ha.
Sometimes I think it was that deal I made with the devil when I was a kid. I remember laying in my bed feeling like shit wondering how I could change myself to get people to like me. I’m not sure how old I was or what, but this happened when I lived on Hatch St. which had to be before I was thirteen. I was totally willing to give the devil my later years, but he would have to give me these years and make me likable. That fucking asshole didn’t give me shit and now he is coming back to stake his claim.
He wants my soul and she is taking it through my god-dammed right shoulder. Silly me so willing to give away everything just to be liked. Even then, at that young age, I never thought the later years would mean anything at all. I mustn’t have thought I would even make it to thirty. I am sure that is the only reason I made that deal, but look who’s paying now? Nice.
I’ve always paid. Cha-ching. How absent of hope does ones life have to be to start making deals with fairy-tale characters just to break even with their peers? Hell man I don’t think I was asking for fortune or fame. I just wanted to fit in and be someone amongst everyone around me.
Poor me.
I haven’t thought about Hatch St. in a while. Ahh the good old days. Pissing my bed and banging my head to get to sleep. I wish I could say it was all because of what was going on outside of me, but the problem was and has always been what was going on inside of me. That little head with crazy thoughts rolling around with no conclusions question after question no need for any answers.
I’m grateful I don’t wet the bed anymore. God knows I wet it long enough for like ten children. Fucking assholes. I do however miss banging my head on the pillow to get to sleep. Maybe I’ll try that tonight just for old times sake, but that leads me right back to where I started: my neck and back…
It all ends right where it begins…