Admittedly, I suppress the vile darkness deep within my soul, and whitewash the utter hopelessness to paint a palatable view of what almost could be.
In blatant English, I lie about my depthless sorrow.
These past ghastly years have finally robbed me of everything I ever had, and ripped my palid optimisim to shreds.
Hope is a dream. Happy endings are unattainable.
In the blissful shroud of night
I pray fervently.....
for eternal sleep.
I only thank God for retaining my mental ability to write these words.
Jon
I seem superficial, but the essence of myself is much deeper than you could ever imagine.
Once, the fleeting lover I had when I lived in the Ozarks said "Jon, I don't understand you".
My answer
"I don't understand myself".
That was when our torrid relationship was ending. There was a beginning.
That was when I left the 55 degree (Fahrenheit) winter of Los Angeles and faced a 5 degree Christmas blizzard in the Missouri Ozarks. When you think someone truly loves you, you can endure the frigid grasp of nature.
He baked cookies, cakes, and pies for me. Gave me gifts. Decorated a magnificent tree. Good 'ol simple country boy was surprisingly adept...at many things.
That Christmas Eve
we bundled up, grabbed a bottle of wine, ventured out into an incredible snowscene worthy of Doctor Zhivago. Deep Siberian drifts everywhere, casting surrealistic illusional colors, a moonless sky - deep dark - blazing with a myriad of December stars - - constellations like Orion and Taurus. We drank wine. We sang...impromptu carols. Magical night.
Inside, fridid to the bone. We warmed up. And warmed up again.
Why on God's green earth am I writing this? It wasn't intended. It wasn't to offend.
I always tell truth. I can't deny my past.
Random thoughts, distant memories somehow become words. Ancient Christmas Eves.
My life - - an infinite surplus of memories ecstasy, agony darkness beyond hell, gold in sunlit clouds. I could tell an incredible endless journey that would astound you.....
and now
nothing.
Long long ago I was an innocent child. Innocence is a gift that I miss the most. A child who knows nothing of the world that awaits him. On this night he only knows the intoxicating scent of the pine tree, peppermint, oranges. Shimmering tinsel, colored lights, ornamental balls that give mesmerizing reflections.
And soft, silent snowfall outside. Promising magic.
Jon
only me, a reflective mood
🌲⛄️ ❤️⛄️🌲
Miserable updates and Xmas memories upcoming



For better or worse ... what would we be without our memories! 😢
ReplyDeleteThey sustain me, Myra...and I like to share them. Thanks.
DeleteMore updates will come, soon.