to walk thru hell and come out a different person.

Hard to believe now, sitting on the couch I sleep on, that just two years ago I lived a life that on the surface at least was ordinary. I had a steady job, a steady girl with her own steady check, a two bedroom house and a brand new truck.
Seems like a life that belonged to somebody besides me.
Fuck it man, life goes on, after all the pain and hard times ive been thru in my life you would think I'd realize that its just how it goes.
I've been on top before and I will again, and someday I'll be back out in the alley digging thru garbage for a meal.
Really though, it all seems so much like a life that belonged to another beside myself.
Gotta say though this is a new all time low. Like they say, the higher the high the lower the low.
I've never had less going for me than now. On the outskirts of Montbello, without a car and nothing close enough to walk to, broke, no job, about to say fuck it and panhandle or rob someone.
And nursing a broken heart.
I've never been the guy to beg for dope, but I cant function sober like this, I'm either raging, sleeping, or lost in my head remembering her almost catatonic.
The first three days I didnt speak at all, not when spoken to, not when hit, just silence.
I'm a little better, but still no will to get up.
Me, the guy who had more fight in him than anyone I know, doesnt have a desire to fight anymore.
Why? For what? my pride? WHo gives a shit?
Pride wont pay for the dope, wont give me a job, and it wont put her in my arms again, so really, whats it matter?

Plus theres something liberating to just stop the fight and walk into the punch, to look at your opponent thru bloodshot eyes and a broken nose, and just laugh at him because you dont care about the outcome.
Thats when he sees something in your apathy that scares him, he knows he couldnt take the blows this way, that fear makes him vulnerable.
He would shoot you if he was in your shoes, would have to because of pride and fear.
He cant fathom how you just stood there, taking his best shots, and the answer is as simple as just standing there.
Its as easy as breathing when you realize that it bears no signifigance, the when, where, and whys of it all, no the experience, that moment, is all that matters.
The little things like what were we fighting about are unimportant, we fought and that was real, was exhausting, aand very violent.
See what I mean? You just reached up and touched the truth, you didnt ask why we fought so hard, what the violence meant, because you realized it didnt matter, we had fought with everything we had to fight with and come out the other side greater than we had been.
He uses that to describe why hes not going to get up this time.
Why? he knows he could right now just get up that easily, that he could fight and that he could win. So whats the point?

Fuck it, im staying right here.
thats met with force, and another tries to move me from where I chose to be, Heres an experience bitch as my blade enters his leg.
I stand above you, as you lay defeated, your forceful will useless to you in anothers world.

I cant break the connection with her tho, I've tried, Its beyond my controle Its her experience and she let it become more than herself was able to posess.
Fuck it.
Love, what a tragic deception we cling to, the ideals of a perfect union from to imperfect wholes?
Like it could ever be more than a fools good intentions.
Trying to make it happen by saying unimportant words.
And the beauty lies in the sincerity of our own futility.