A Pile of Dog Bones

“In each of us two natures are at war… the good and the evil. All our lives the fight goes on between them, but one of them must conquer. In our own hands lies the power to choose. What we want most to be we are.” – Dr. Henry Jekyll

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Happy Halloween!!!

Halloween has finally arrived! There will be ghosts, goblins, and all sorts of evilness in the streets tonight! For one day out of the year death, destruction, and mayhem become common place! For one day... I won't feel so damn out of place! Did I mention that there is free candy involved???

Some of you may remember the photo above being mentioned in a previous post this month. It is the grave of a very famous person... specifically on Halloween. So if you missed Denise who had answered the question of the grave correctly... well you can see a better picture of it on my photoblog... and it is in fact the grave of Harry Houdini. So those are two people who you may not have known fascinate me... Jack The Ripper and Harry Houdini. I suppose in a way I like the fact that both kept their secrets from the world... and in the process have become pretty much bigger in death than they were in life because of that.

I'll be honest... originally I was going to blog about Harry and how he rose from poverty and obscurity to be one of the biggest names in the world... but you can just read the Wiki article on him if you feel the need to know more. But I was actually on the phone with someone for 88 minutes Sunday night who said something that gave me mental material to ponder, besides the fact that when I quit smoking I may no longer be able to drink coffee. Even though they will say I can speak in coherent sentences, well they're just wrong. Something they did mention though was how they don't really know me.

It wasn't in a bad way or anything, but we always say how we really don't know the people who's blogs we read or those who comment. I'm sure everyone knows what I mean... so I won't get into a long drawn out soliloquey about the difference between online personas and real life personalities. It made me ponder just how much I really know myself. So yeah... this post is going deep so turn back now if your not feeling it.

Honestly I have to admit that I never thought I would have been able to maintain this blog. I had tried doing one back in 2004 and scrapped it after around 4 or 5 entries. I did so because ultimately I didn't feel it was conveying what I wanted to say and I was limited with my computer access at the time. It became easier to write in a $7.99 blank journal for those 3 or 4 months... which in the end I think has been some of the absolute BEST writing I have ever done. Of course, what happened to that book is neither here nor there. It came from the soul and was infused with the person I am... or perhaps the person I was. I believe the person it was meant for got the message I was trying to send... and although the outcome of it was not what would some may have deemed as desired... in the end I think it was a success in saying what my soul so desperately needed to say.

Now that book is lost to me so going back to it isn't possible. However luckily I have this blog and these archives. Looking through it I have to ask myself how true have I really portrayed myself here. Is this really me... or is this just another Halloween mask I'm wearing. This is what I pondered a little less than a year ago. This is what I pondered at 5:00am this morning while also looking at pot roast recipies. This is something I may still ponder 5 years from now wherever I may be.

I don't think there is a yes or no answer to this question as simple as it may sound. On a post by post basis I can say, "No, this isn't the real me." Collectively however, it is far easier to say, "Yeah, this is me. Warts, blemishes, FOADs, and all." I am quite a few different things here whether you may realize it or not. Yet I tend to think that I may be more than 396 blog posts... hell I hope I am. Otherwise there is all there is about me to know. How mundane and boring. I sincerely hope that deep down there is something else waiting to be discovered... to be awakened...
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The beep was not a harsh sound. It was a constant, never wavering, and steady beep. It was lingering in the back of a mind. Whose mind?

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep. My mind. But who am I?

A new sound. This was not a harsh sound either. It was also constant, never wavering, and steady with the rise of his chest. My chest is rising every time I hear the Whoosh.

Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh Beep. Beep. Whoosh Beep. Beep. Whoosh Beep.

A new sensation. In his left hand. Softness. Smoothness. Slight pressure. An irregularity on the fourth finger. It was a hand squeezing his. Naturally he tried to squeeze back. Then the softness was gone. The smoothness had disappeared. The irregularity was a figment of his imagination.

Light. Bright and white. Harsh. Voices drowning out the beep and the whoosh. The feeling of coldness on his chest causes a scream. Yet there is still only the sound of the voices and every now and then a beep or a whoosh. The voices are harsh too. Separated. Scattered. Back to black.

“… two months…”

“… swelling is down… more time…”

“… damage may b…”

“He did squeeze my hand.” Not that voice. No, no harshness there. Softness. Clarity. Tenderness. Vanilla. Then silence.

Beep. Whoosh. Beep. Whoosh. Beep.
So tonight is Halloween. The world will don masks and parade in the glamour of being anyone but themselves. Tonight I will no longer be out of place. When the day is done everyone else will take their masks off. Perhaps with some determination, desire, and of course a little luck... maybe I'll take mine off too and those who do not read this blog... who cannot see the collective as a whole... perhaps they will see me for who I really am. Maybe... just maybe... I may see myself for who I really am for the first time in a long time without the aid of a computer screen.

And in the end if I can't take it off... if I continue to be like Harry and Jack to the world... then so be it... because at least I can always look at myself here.
Posted by New York City's Watchdog :: 10/31/2006 12:10:00 AM :: :: 9 Bones Added to the Pile

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