War Of One – Pissing In The Past

I wrote something yesterday, but with a click of a button I made it disappear. I didn’t want to read my own drivel, which is pretty par for the course. For some reason, however, the entire piece just reeked of this sort of defeatist mentality. In it’s entirety the piece spanned about 600 words and was actually pretty well put together – complete sentences and everything. I wasn’t under the influence of any sort of mind stabilizing medications, I wasn’t drinking, and I wasn’t even on one of my eating disordered rampages where the room is spinning and the words just kind of barf out without me realizing exactly what I was saying. All of those words are gone, the time that it took me to write those words is now gone, and I don’t want them back. Looking back hasn’t been my strong point.

I’m sure there is some sort of “autosave” feature here in WordPress in which I could scour my past and find the article from recent past. I’m sure it’s somewhere in my history on the computer, but I don’t want it. That was yesterdays news, today is a different story. I feel the same as I do yesterday, in regards to what I was babbling on about, but at the same time it just doesn’t seem important. Life isn’t very important, there will always be somebody to piss in your boots. This is where I am now, the article of yesterday comes true today in vivid spectacle and all I can do is shake my head. The premise of the article was about not letting other people steer your boat.

Master your own sails and all that shit. The only one that has time to rock the boat is the one that isn’t rowing, right? I never quite understood that, how large is this boat, how many sails does it actually have, and who the hell let that trouble maker on the boat in the first place? If there is one thing that I can very strongly say is that I learned at a very early age to select your boat mates very carefully, you never know when you might need them to save your ass because you decided to jump into the lake after too much tequila….I digress.

The point of this dialogue is not so much to try to relive what has been lost, but why what we lost should stay in the past. Recently I got to adventure out on a spirit journey of sorts. In a bitter sense of the word I used my ailing grandfather as a catalyst to make this happen, I didn’t want him sick, and I didn’t want to see him suffer, but at the same time I couldn’t not see him. Given a wild hair and a pension for irresponsibility my battle cry for this journey was “for pops”. All of my actions were to lead me to visit and cherish him while he was still making jokes and using profanity. All of these things that form me into who I am today, all of these things that lead to character defects, work ethic, and hereditary predisposition to addictive activities were going to be celebrated on this adventure. What better company to celebrate the sorry sot you are than nobody but yourself, right?

This is where leaving the past behind is very important. Although you’ve fought the good fight all your life to become the person you “think” you want to be, there are so many damn things that are stuck – like your hereditary – that you can only ride the wave out. The past life of your debauchery, missed connections, and casual encounters can lead you to a future of repeating those same sorry acts. It’s hard, however, to break this cyclical thinking, especially if you decide you don’t want to. Your past is comfortable, your past is familiar, your past is just that, yours. On my journey for Pops, I realized that there weren’t many things about my adventure that were 100% me – the drinks I chose were because they reminded me fondly of other people, the places I stayed were because I liked the people there, the food I ate was because I knew it would make somebody mad somewhere. All of these things were who I “was” but really, it was more what other people were that I was trying to be.

Perfect example, my affinity for Makers Mark. Truth be told I can wallow in a bottle and tell the world to fuck off with no trouble at all. For all intensive purposes I think Makers Mark has broken up more of my relationships than I care to remember, but lets not look at the past – the failed relationships – lets look at the present. Which one of those past people are here for you to give you a hug right freaking now? Who of those people whom you “destroyed the relationship with your affair with the red wax” would still bend over backwards for you even though you truly wiped your ass with them? This is where you might start pumping your fist and saying “yeah, screw exes, screw them right in the ear”.

That’s where you’re wrong, because that failed relationship is is your past, doesn’t mean it can’t still very much be in your future. Your future can include your red wax lover, but at the same time a richer tapestry of life has to occur. Instead of dwelling in the past and realizing “damn, I really fucked up a good thing” or “they just don’t understand how good a snort is at the end of the day” you’ll start to realize that it’s really not worth it, nothing can be worth it. It’s just a beverage, it’s just bourbon, it’s just so damn good. Is it really though? Is it the warm feeling that you get in your belly when you drink it? Is it not the same warm feeling in your belly that you get when you embrace somebody that you really love and cherish in your life? The subtle burn on your tongue, is that not that same tingle that you get when your lips press against somebody that loves and cares for you even if you have morning breath or crooked teeth? Is that brown liquid not just showing you love?

This is war, folks, and some of us have become comfortable here. War against ourselves, our bodies, our brains, our diets, our beverage selections, the cars we drive, the list goes on. If you’re not fighting the good fight, you’re dying a cowards death. Fight for the things that make your bodies feel good and your bellies burn in the right ways. You’re not doing it right if you don’t swear a lot, if you don’t break a few hearts, and if you don’t make a few people blush along the way. Welcome to the fast lane into the future, folks, the toll booth is asking nicely for you to deposit your drama in the basket.

Pops made it through my visit, and his grit in the gizzard attitude gave me hope for myself. Although there aren’t too many times that I can say that I’m a “Faber”, in certain situations, like waging war on something, I’m proud to say I have some of that blood in me. Pops was a tough mother, but at the same time he could shed a tear at the drop of a hat. I’d like to say that he was a wiser man than any I’ve ever met, but at the same time, I haven’t met everybody. The influence he’s had in my life is of one simple thing – perseverance. You can be knocked down, dragged out, but the only thing that can really keep you down is your past.

“you can tell a true war story if it embarrasses you. If you don’t care for obscenity, you don’t care for the truth; if you don’t care for the truth, watch how you vote. Send guys to war, they come home talking dirty. ”
― Tim O’Brien, The Things They Carried

The farther you distance yourself from your past, the more you realize that if it weren't from the past, you wouldn't be where you are. Those shit cars of our past build us into stronger people.

The farther you distance yourself from your past, the more you realize that if it weren’t from the past, you wouldn’t be where you are. Those shit cars of our past build us into stronger people.

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