By Sword Of Pen/Writers Block
Growing up Chad was denied love in lieu of fear and terrorism. His life was severely affected by the way his parents treated him while growing up. He is over 40 now, but to this day he still has problems that relate back to his childhood. Subjected to emotional abuse in many different forms he lived through criticism, belittlement and being picked on. Chad was treated like an outcast in his own family. Differently from how his parents treated his siblings, they always letting him know, often in subtle ways, that he was not wanted in the family. Sometimes his father would gang up his siblings against him and they would all make fun of him. Emotions towards Chad were cold and disinterested. Growing up he was never hugged by his parents, or told that he was loved.
An eon of thought can pass equal to a moment in time. Entering Chad’s story we see him deep in unending thought. Tormented and vulnerable he recalls the sinking feeling once felt within his family home. With a detached, fleeting retrospect his memory visits reminding him of a cold, snowy day as he slipped and fell down his grandmother’s ice filled steps. All pain fell from his mind, heart and body, while his spirit was removed. In this fall he realized he possessed no value and had no protection within his parents’ world. Unaware of Chad’s fall, his father held tightly onto his mother to protect her from the same decent. Wounded and scolded, Chad rose, bruised and bewildered, after sliding down three stories and landing on a pool of concrete. As a child, Chad was horribly neglected and abused, but without support he seldom allows himself to look back at his life’s circumstances. In this brief instant, he is reluctant to feel sorrow for that frightened young boy. At six years old his heart was broken, while he came to the understanding, that he was alone and responsible for himself.
“We are no more than a hiccup in time, a bleep, a bump, a blunder,” thought Chad as this memory was revisited. He was older now, in his teen years and felt wiser. He learned to live in retrospect. With intent for his own protection he ravenously soaked up all insight and knowledge while living protectively under cover in his so-called bubble. This bubble, created by Chad was the child of the recluse he would become and was now the adolescent predestined turtle still struggling from within.
Chad’s first attempts at writing were as a teenager and he takes refuge within his thoughts for the first time.
A Brief Shot
My layers have been cutaway.
In this omitting, I have peeled away the distracting spaces of what was outside, to slowly reveal the inside.
Creating a visual or tangible rendering of myself.
This maybe a brief shot that gets interrupted, as I become frightened, distracted or discouraged.
Until then I will depict related matter accordingly, in concurrency, and continuously as I collect and connect all within my grasp.
Chad never found, a place to feel safe and grow. He lived without notice screaming like a cricket in the night. In time he weakened and wearily gave up. His early years left him without trust in others and impeded his external and emotional growth. Inactive he lived, while frantically swimming in his own emotions and duly encased dynamic and spinning thoughts. Only comforted, while writing down his feeling, his spirit incorporates a pained soul and lives in isolation and turmoil through day-to-day life.
Within my soul, liberation lies beyond the walls of my being and my dwellings.
Unable to brake through, I am smothering slowly and painfully, within my existence.
I act to be the one who is loved, by the one who stands before me. Leaving me weakened, tired and untruthful.
Then I am angered, feeling empty and alone.
Caged within my soul.
Chad lived and fought through years of abuse. His father full of anger and outrage stood opposed to Chad’s strength of will, personality and shared hatred. This malice grew with obvious disdain and distrust. In hate for his son his father pushed and held a pillow over his face, while intuitively Chad played possum. “Die,” he whispered while crushing and grasping Chad by the neck. Muttering and cursing, his father slid a trash bag over his head, while forcibly placing his hand over Chad’s mouth. His boyish screams grew raspy and full of fear, as his father tightened his grip. Chad fought and fixed a steady punch and inevitably, he broke free. His wails were wild, like a wolf howling in the night, still no one heard a sound.
A Child’s Cry
if I lived my life again spent the time I had to spend
would you close your eyes and leave me crying
if you knew where I had been would you run away and then
leave me standing all alone again
would you listen to my heart could you mend a broken part
would you open up you heart and let me in
In these words I say to you can you understand them to
can you free my mind and see within
though the years have come and gone yet the feelings are still strong
of a child left alone and crying
Chad found refuge while writing and in his stories he was able to find resolve. As a young adult Chad’s issues, like bricks, felt like obstacles and eventually blocked stubbornly as they weighed heavily and demand his attention. Chad worked to move forward and as he processed past the age of twenty, he fought through many obstacles and battles. Laboring with written words and knowledge he compiled his thoughts and was determined to build shelter, not with straw or stick, but with the bricks that once confined him and that he had carried along the way. The source of power achieved from overcoming and writing about, some of his issues, became the bricks that now protected him. This safety, expressed now, unknowingly, will again, form a border and will no longer shield, or defend. These issues not completely transformed will change structure and once again restrict and entrap, as Chad is in constant repair.
Writing in hope that one day others will read his insights, Chad believes his thoughts and ideas could comfort others as they did him. “Setting Claim,” is what Chad wrote and wished for himself. While believing, it informed others, of the pit-falls of living a naive, superficial life.
I will no longer allow others to define who I am. I am now in control of my own ego. This allows me entrance to the gift of self possession and protects me from allowing those with character issues to delegate who I am. I will not again share nor relinquish this power in any attempt to conform. I am setting claim on what is mine. I painfully paid for and earned this possession for myself.
Some look at others naively as they live a superficial life. Often there is a lack of experience, judgment, or information. Also it shows a simplistic view of nature or absence of genuine concern. This happens when we are concerned with or comprehending only what is apparent or obvious and having sight only for what is shallow, rather than actual. Many are eager to believe and see only the surface. Producing a lacking of awareness, knowledge, reasoning and depth. Consequently, as individuals conceive only appearance, not character, unfortunately, proceeds with ultimately living a naive, superficial life. While those trapped by others view of self are forced to live a life without the gift of self possession.
Chad was in quest of his own self ownership and as he aged past the age of thirty, he continued to write and relate others pain to his own and by sword of pen he made associating insights in hope of solution. This was done by “plucking out,” as he called it, “distorted perceptions,” that people live in every day. “One less wild one,” Chad reveled, believing his insights were answering questions of his own wild unrestrained thoughts. He felt he now contributed to the world and that he had finally found purpose. Solving the equations of the “wild one’s” brought him peace. Chad was redeemed, born again and was joyful in a freshly discovered, sense of resolve. He basked in the glory of a new found determination and rejoiced in believing he now, produced proof, that he was indeed alive.
Chad continues to write and share what he learns through his life. Still, he is unable to live freely and use his insight to his own benefit and breaks down.
When there is no guilt, fear or capacity of happiness,
there is no justice.
The pain is passed on, and fear is obsolete.
Therefore, with nothing to beware of, there are no boundaries.
With no one being held responsible, there again is no
When we do not learn to break through our frustrations,
we then break down, and join in with them.
For instance, anger is a honest feeling.
With out anger, we would not know when to stand strong for what we believe in.
Yet without substance, anger will bring us back around,
the growing circle of breaking down.
Chad’s life reaches climax after relentlessly being bombarded by his own constant, culminating thoughts and revisiting issues. These issues, even-though solved on paper, continue to haunt in other dimensions. With thoughts hovering like poltergeists, he remains unattached and without the capacity to sort through and provide accommodations that they demand. Without condescension, Chad’s memories live outside his human comprehension, and appear distraught and dirtied by time, while looking for shelter and hauntingly, sputtering around him. An insanity grows, as he does the same things over and over again, expecting different results. Consequently, he is unable to give rest to his repeating thoughts, fears and concerns and he is led into narrative conclusion, without progression and is written within his own predetermined refuge of thought. Chad now lives with his realities, both real and written, blurred. In hope for a cure and for freedom from his own and others self-absorption he persistently searches for truth and knowledge in the desire of learning something profound. Unaware of his condition, he is captured by predetermined conclusions and predestined to be a recluse.
Isolation standing in demand. Feeling different says I am. With no control of who I am. I live my life to be damned.
Prematurely aged, lethargic and typing, he is trapped within writers block and in his own twist of plot. His keys worn weak and his words obscured like the crickets screaming. His head hangs low and his fingers are cold and tightly wrapped around a cup of coffee, hope fades and in truth he sits within the walls of bricks built around him. Unpleasing to mind, this story ends as it began, fading out in disparaging deliberation. Chad is lost and deep within his own unending thoughts, unable to find or strike the key of balance, control, wisdom or solution.