Chronicles of the Anguished (No. 2)

Sunday,  Jan.3,  1993
2:02 A.M. Annapolis, Maryland

Michael’s Entry:

The tears of a sorrowful man are constant and heavy. Brown eyes look up at grey skies and hope for a better tomorrow. The tears I cry are the tears of a child’s pain held back many years. I have contended with the darkness, and still I face my fears. What is to be said of past anguish and torment left untold? In a dark room a child cried and kept his pain inside. The secrecy of the darkness when it exposes itself is hideous in its raw truth. The ugliness of the underbelly dredge up memories that anger me. Through the eyes of a child, looking at my mother I asked God why he didn’t take us together. Many have told me not to dwell on it, but often I ponder. My sadness increases daily. I am a man in a wilderness of torment seeking an oasis of peace. It is with a heavy heart that I write; I sleep when I can, but I am up most nights. It’s been two years now since Luciana has left. I miss her; but I would never tell her. I am happy she has moved on and found the love she always wanted. I could have done things better, but maybe it’s for the best. Still, I am haunted by the ‘what-ifs.’ Two nights ago I dozed off behind the wheel and almost veered into oncoming traffic; the insomnia is taking its toll. I haven’t spoken to my family in over four years and it’s been somewhat therapeutic. Unsolicited advice from people with their own lives in shambles always irritated me. I do have a dear aunt that’s close to me, but even our relationship is strained. I’ve held things in for years but no more. In fact, I am more resolute than ever to speak my mind despite the potential for hurt feelings; of course, being as respectful as I can be as man who prides himself on etiquette. I no longer have the vigor for life I once had when I was younger. The progression of events that I experienced as a child have have largely contributed to my current state.

It’s hard living life in a constant state of agony. I think what I’ve sought all these years is understanding; someone with genuine love. Granted, sometimes I haven’t been the easiest person to be with, and I’m readily willing to admit my faults. I think the harsh reality is some people are just destined to be alone; years ago I would have never come to this conclusion, but more and more I see true love as something in fairy tales and an illusion. I have been accused of thinking negatively before, so maybe I should refrain, or maybe not. I do have a lady that I’ve been talking to recently, but I hold no hope of it developing into anything more than an acquaintanceship; her name is Stephanie. She is quite attractive, and so far her personality is genteel. The medicine my physician prescribed for my anxiety and depression are no longer effective. I have an appointment next week to address my ongoing insomnia; I’m hopeful it can be resolved in the near future. Frankly I’m dead tired, but I would rather write than look up at the ceiling. These days I find myself crying more than ever. Also, I think I’ve lost my faith in religion. I stopped praying years ago because my prayers weren’t being answered; some may say it’s because I didn’t have enough faith and maybe they’re right. It’s a topic I have to revisit but don’t feel like expounding on right now.

I’m usually responsible financially but recently I have been spending excessively on things that I think will make me happy or at least grant me reprieve from the realities of life. Yesterday I spent a shitload of money on a leather jacket I didn’t need, and I don’t fucking care; it looks good on me and I like it. Fuck it. Is my wild spending some kind of symptom of a mental breakdown? Maybe, or maybe not. I don’t know why in the hell my mind keeps forcing me to think about Luciana. I don’t want to. She’s married now, with a husband and a child on the way, last I heard. It seems everyone else around me is happy, and I am condemned to a life of forlorn and perpetual pain. I have contemplated on this very prospect for some time now and still can’t seem to reach any rational conclusion. I think of the utter darkness of the void and if there is peace to be found in it. Self reflection is a good thing generally, but I tend to dwell on things, so it’s a little different for me. I want to dream beautiful dreams and travel the world with a significant other. I want to be at peace with myself and settle my thoughts long enough to get some fucking sleep. It’s snowing outside and I like seeing the snowfall under the street light near my window; it brings a certain feeling of calmness. I think I will dust off my record player and put on, Violin Sonata in G minor (Tartini) “Devil’s Trill Sonata,” which is a favorite of mine from the Baroque period. Now will also be a good time for some herbal tea; I might as well since I’m up anyway. Goodnight, or good morning rather.

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