Dinner for One: 2022 in Review

I made a record of my favorite record and posted it here on July 10
I quit drinking and smoking
I surfed on both sides of the mighty Atlantic
I walked around a zoo with a niece on my shoulders
I won a fist fight in San Sebastian
I wrote the Toy Collectors Daughter in one draft without stopping or revising or editing or anything. And posted it here on July 30
I came to this blog, afterhavingread yours, almost everyday hoping so desperately to keep any kind of connection and fighting the ever growing truth of your indifference, and to write and create and simply EXIST in an alternative reality where hopeful past and hopeless future can presently meet, connected by that shared experienced, in heart and soul and passionate desire to find that light and companionship and shared path
I drove the wrong way up a one way street in Manhatten
I ate dinner with the CEO of Cognita
I slept under a bridge downtown 
I lived in a tent near a secret beach for three months
I swam in the sea on Christmas day
I was told in a job interview that I was too old
I dreamt of you, in every moment of every day and night, I dreamt of you.
I held weekly school assemblies, this old broken man, in a hall with about 200 children between 6 and 11 years old for about 30 minutes, teaching them about the importance of building strong character
I did lots of other amazing things like this, but the overall achievement was in realizing that none of it matters. At all. Not to me and not to anyone who matters to me. I am lost, empty and alone and confused about how I got here and how this happened when I thought it... This... was us. Where are you? And how's the foie gras?
I became an emotional black hole who has hurt and neglected everyone who has ever cared for me and I deserve their scorn and indifference. This is the simple truth and this is how 2022 ends. A cold swim in the sea of you and me and a colder dinner for one.
"Happy New Year" we shared four years ago with an illicit phone call while the family was inside. Talk to me about "simple passion" and destructive, toxic and unhealthy desires. Tell me how time heals and how we tried and it didn't work and that's it. I am remembering looking up at the sky during that phone call, and I told you to do that, too wherever you were, to look at the stars, and I also remember that you were apologizing for wanting to connect, having sent a message, knowing how difficult it was. I said, "Everything is going to be o.k.," because I always said that, and we shared that phone connection Happy New Year, and I'm saying it again now today, everything is going to be ok, past meets present, and all futures die. And today I apologize to you for trying to reach out and wanting to make this connection. Also, "ok" is a rather subjective measure, is it not? Some ok's are maybe more ok than others, is that fair to say? Turn to the person next to you and ask what he thinks. Ask if he's ok, there next to you in your New Year's best dress. Everything is ok. Happy New Year.

Twelve O’Clock 
Twelve o'clock in the morning, got a message from afar 
Down under an oasis where there are dreams still being born 
And summer spoke to winter, relaying all encouraging words 
And I was fully grateful mutant messages were heard 
Moved on from my despondency and left it in the bed 
Do I leave it there still sleeping or maybe kill it better yet? 
For this is no time for depression or self-indulgent hesitance 
This fucked up situation calls for all hands, hands on deck 

Freedom is as freedom does and freedom is a verb 
They giveth and they taketh and you fight to keep that what you've earned 
We saw the destination, got so close before it turned 
Swim sideways from this undertow and do not be deterred 
Floodlight dreams go drifting past 
All the lives we could've had 
Distant loves floating above 
Close these eyes, they've seen enough 

Caught the butterfly, broke its wings then put it on display 
Stripped of all its beauty once it could not fly high away 
Still alive like a passerby overdosed on gamma rays 
Another god's creation destined to be thrown away 

His best days gone, hard to admit 
Throwing angry punches with nothing to hit 
Luminous thoughts were once all he had 
Fading lights, lost eloquence 
There's still a fire in the engine room 
Knows relief will be coming soon 

What's to be done? 
Carve a path for rivers reign 
Much to be done 
Oceans rising with the waves 
Held by these thoughts 
They refuse to slip away 
Hangman in dreamland 
About to call your name

Like Annie Ernaux's "Simple Passion" much of my writing has become a raw, tumultuous autofiction, (thankyou Serge Doubrovsky, you French writers seem to know me best), but it is a difficult genre to stay in. I am going to give it a rest and try my best to stay true to myself and my life in the New Year. Ever forward!

Finally, January 1 is my cousin Sean's 51st birtday. He is my first cousin and closest childhood companion. I found out today that he has Stage 4 lung cancer and won't see his next birthday. If this is my last post on Horizon's in Disguise, it is in this spirit of "who gives a fuck", nothing matters, we'll all be dead someday anyway.

Tomorrow is a new year, a new day, a new opportunity to feel and be and see and walk and make a different way. Turn to the person next to you, say, "everything is going to be ok," and then....obey...till death do you part. No place for simple passion when his plans have been made.

She was a singer in a rock and roll band
Had command of all their voices
Turned herself into a hologram
So we say, "goodbye for now"
Never say, "goodbye"
It was just a trick we played
On our minds/lives

Goodbye for now.

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