Arches

There have been alot of things in the past two weeks that I have been very unsure of. There have been things I thought I would never do, and other thing that were predestined for me.

I've never been to a party in my life. Though I guess I can't say that now.

I don't focus on the way that guilt shoots through my stomach, everytime I think of my mother, crying over what her son has become, and somehow I don't focus on the way it left such an acerbic taste in the back of my throat.

Perhaps what I have become, is simply the person that I was destined to be. But who am I to analyze myself.. I definitely know though, that right now, on this cold sidewalk, where I decided to sit and wallow in my self-pity, that there is something going on in my life that I'm just to tiny to realize.

I've been sitting here for a couple of hours. It's well into the dark and early hours of morning, but I don't care. I don't care if I stay here until the sun waves a shallow and hopeful goodmorning, don't care if the ocean rises up and swallows me whole, drowning me in salty waters, never meant for chilled glasses and rocks of ice.

I watch an ambulance drive by, blaring alarm into the slum streets of Vegas' dirty little secrets. I wonder if Ryan is in there, stowed away, hooked up to machines that drip artificial life into his veins.

But isn't that what he always wanted? An artificial existence, carved by his own shaking adolescent hands.

His own hands though, are bruised and beaten and bloody now, everything but artistic.

An amazing and completely palm-sweating reality kicks in then, this horrifying and slightly elating idea of 'So alone and no one to see your troubles and mistakes, miseries and heart breaks' an absolutely overrated prospect of 'No ones even listening to your lies, self suficient sources of disguise' and the world gets lighter with comming day, and it's easier to breathe for now.

God can't see in the dark, but in the day time, people are on their best behavior. Those who fear death, who need something to hold onto, God becomes a convenient source of solid ground to even non believers. When push comes to shove, we've all been known to use the 'J' word.

I then proceed to burst out laughing. Just sitting there on the side walk at 4 AM in the morning, this shit eating grin spread all over my face. A man with a scruffy beard walks by, stares for a while then stops.

" You know something I don't know, boy?" He's just some dirty old homeless man, with more knowledge than sense.

I fight my way through laughter, eyes shining in morning glow, and all I can think to say is, " Cool beard, sir." And he smiles, and I smile right back, broad and toothy, leaving a lovely sting in my cheeks.

This old shapeless man takes one last look at me, presses his lips together in a tight line, eyes still shining, he takes a hold of my shoulder as he carefully leans down to me. His grey hair is practically matted to his head, and the remnants of youth beneath years of creasing wrinkles and lines isn't very prominent, but he just looks at me, takes a long god damn look, then states in a reminicent sort of way, " In our age... men seem more prone to confuse wisdom with the things we know and the things we know with information, and try to solve problems in life with engineering. So boy, re-examine all the things the 'man' has told you... Ignore what insults your soul."

Then he's shuffling away, off down the street, stopping at a few garbage cans to pick up any redeemable recyclables.

I wonder about William, wonder if he's safe at home right now, wonder if he'll be the perpetual couch hopper. That thought makes me smile though, because at least he'd have an interesting life. An interesting story, and good bit of advise to give to a smiling kid on a sidewalk one day.

A kid like me, a kid who could really use a new sense of direction, and a hair cut.

But that's all in the future, and all I want to do, is live in the now.

_____________

" Hello?" The voice on the other line is groggy, tired and a lot of other unpleasant things.

" Hey, it's, uh, it's me, Brendon." I feel pretty tired myself now.

" Brendon? Brendon Boyd- Where are you, what the hell have you been doing all night? Are you alright?" I smile, because yeah, I am.

" Never better, and um actually, mom, I've been out with people, but myself mostly, I talked to this older man, he was nice, and I realized that uh, my life is for me, and uh, I don't think I want you guys trying to control me anymore. Okay? I mean, I love you guys, the sibling, you, dad, everyone, I just need my own life right now." I pause, give her a second to process it all.

I hope she's not creeped out by the old man thing.

" Oh,"'And it sounds surprised, it sounds mildly alarmed, and a reasonable amount of calm.

" Oh. So does this mean I should cancel your cello lessons?" I hear the waver in her voice, like she's being told to do something she really doesn't want to.

" No mom, but it does mean I want a hug from each and everyone of you when I get home." I laugh alittle, trying to tell her it's okay. I hear her little gasp on the other line, and her muffled reply in the form of the words 'of course', with a shaky 'sweetheart' in there somewhere.

" It's okay mom. I'll be home soon. I love you." Then I hang up.

It feels good, freeing, and empowering. All the thing I thought it would be. It feels like I've walked beneath the passage way, renewing myself, a steady path of joined stone, shelter and union. Something reaching to the sky, and meeting where there is no limit.

Like arches.