Wednesday, April 09, 2014


The other day I was driving down one of our particularly busy stretches of ribbon in this fair city and saw an old comic book store I used to frequent a lot when I was just a mere child of 20.  I remember her, that girl.  I remember her wonder at the world.  I remember her optimism that life would somehow work out, even if it wasn't working out right then.  I remember her.  She was ready for things to happen.  She really thought they would.

Today I decided to go into the store.  It had changed since I had been there last, of course.  The face was the same but the internal layout was completely different.  Gone were the little nooks I used to hide and read comics in.  Gone was the dirty, musky smell.  Things felt new and strange and unfamiliar.  Things change, I know.  I'm not that girl anymore and that store isn't that store anymore.  I looked but they didn't have the range of comics I was hoping for. I could barely find anything.  I was disoriented and lost and craving knowing how to go about things without a map like I used to be able to do.

I can never go back to her; that girl; there is no map that can take me back there and there is no compass that will help me navigate my way back into her head.  She is so long gone that I can barely even touch her with my thoughts.  My link to her is tenuous and strained with longing to go back but you can never go back.  I'd love to get in the DeLorean and work things out but I can't.  I don't have her optimism that things will somehow be okay anymore, I miss that.  I don't have her wonder at the world and that is something I crave too.  I don't have her youth and vitality nor her ability to manifest.  I know too many depressing answers about how things work for me.  Not for everyone but yes, for me.  I know that there is nothing holding me up or believe that there is any kind of safety net I can access.  There is no "there-there, it'll be okay".  None of that exists.  I know that there is no one to help navigate my path.  I don't trust that I can do it alone and in fact I know I can't.  I don't even want to navigate.  Nothing seems to have a point, especially me and I hate this clarity with every sense of myself.  I don't even know where it came from but it feels like I just woke up one morning and realised an irreparable truth.  I had a stupid, fucking a-ha moment that I wish I could give back to the ether.

I don't hate the actual truth of it though. Truth, at least gives me a compass point from which to reference myself.  At the moment I'm pointing at royally fucked, aimless, loner, weirdo but at least I know.  It's my powerlessness in the face of truth that I hate.  I've fought too many battles in my day to day existence to be powerful enough to fight any more.   I'm exhausted.  I'm over fighting for normal human everyday things and there is such truth in that, it's scary.

I tried to meet that 20 year old child today in that store but I couldn't.  I looked for her in amongst the crisp trade paperbacks and Wrestlemania figurines but she was nowhere to be seen.  She's lost.  I'm lost.  I left the store feeling like I had severed a tie forever.  Another link gone.  I'm going through them at an alarming rate.