Repitition...
Another day, another death, another moment, so many left.
I dread phone calls with wavery voices, with emotions pushed back, with eyes on hold, with shortened breaths. There's a different feeling when it comes to death. Mortality is never tangible but its breathable. It's stench is unique and bitter, abilities to shake the strongest trees and rust any metal. Voices tremble mind wanders lifes on hold while another pauses.
I'm the youngest, i'm the outcast, the loner, the idealist, the son. Death is such a weird thing to me, i have been able to grasp the concept, i understand what it is but yet not quite the brevity of it in itself. Finality is only a word. Not an action. But i've had practice, I've been the adult, the back up for my dad. Having the ability to feel human in front of me. Scary thought, to think that your parents are human, that have emotions like pain, discomfort, unhappiness, sadness. Never fully understand it till you see it, but than it's fleeting. So much of your life you depict your parents as super heros. as people with no boundaries doomed to a life of happiness.
I've been there for my dad. I've done things to help him that would make any person fall into a real depression, seen things that would scar. I've seen my dad as a human a few times. I've had the role reversed. I've had him crying on my shoulder. Situations kids aren't prepared for, don't think could ever happen. I've had practice. My emotions are on lock down. Only here in words. Only here in the late night voice. Only in moments of time where being human is intimate. I've heard my dad crying on the phone. I've had practice. Hardship is a lesson well learned with the zimmermans. How my family has grown apart. Siblings in a work enviroment.
I pick up the phone and strangely I already know. My poor dad, such a good man. A great guy, a great person, a great dad, a great husband, a great son. Doesn't deserve all this. Doesn't need his mortality tested. Doesn't need his emotions tinkered with. No more emotional connections. No more women in his life. No longer a husband and now no longer a son. I've had practice but i'm never prepared. My heart would break had it not been damaged already. He asks for me to come home. What else am i going to do. No hugs, no i love yous. Emotionally afraid. Emotionally tinged. Like frayed wires.
Death for me is something else. Ironic my dad's 56 and now lost his mom. I was only 18. I havent decided which is easier. Alone in the dark listening to music and thinking. maybe thats easier. picking up my phone ever so often to see if anyone is there. just writting. useless meandering words. little do they mean little do they impact. but it helps. it works. I just feel bad for my dad. No one deserves the bad things that happen to them, but especially my dad.
Not sure the ruin that would be brought upon me if he died. I owe him a lot. Im honestly not a good son. Not much of a good brother. I've checked out of my family. Not really on purpose. Not really sure why. I'm not doing my best. I'm skidding by. Doing good. but not my best. am i trying to figure things out. am i caring. am i just letting the bricks hit my face first before i react. before i do something. it's a life. it's something. 22 years is a lot, but not enough to figure it out. am i stalling. dragging my feet. I feel alone. but who isnt. i know i didnt use to. i'm only alone emotionally maybe. maybe thats ok. it helps me cherish the time i do have with people. it helps me be such a nice guy. who knows really.
time will always march forward. never stopping. we all will stop. it's destiny. sometimes it's just much easier to fall asleep next to someone. to have someone to feel there. to rid that feeling of being alone. to hear the breath. to open your eyes and see your not alone. to close them and fell that your not alone. a piece of mind. a peace of mind. to wake up and feel loved. to wake up with a partner. a back up. someone who you know will be back in the spot tonight. that no matter what happens that day that won't change. cities could level and money could be made, yet to fall asleep with the smell of the hair or the touch of their skin is more home than a house would ever be. for a place where you soul can feel shelter. time for your soul to dance. play. smile. and feel loved.
you play the hand that was dealt ya. no chance of winning when you fold. i just feel bad for my dad. only human. the confines of sleep helps. dreams to be made, dreams to come true. tommorow is a friday that can be certain. what happens may have aleady been penciled. I may only acting on what was already written. i can feel though. sometimes, everytime all the time you just wish for more. for that feeling you know to be real but so unattainable. thats life.
I dread phone calls with wavery voices, with emotions pushed back, with eyes on hold, with shortened breaths. There's a different feeling when it comes to death. Mortality is never tangible but its breathable. It's stench is unique and bitter, abilities to shake the strongest trees and rust any metal. Voices tremble mind wanders lifes on hold while another pauses.
I'm the youngest, i'm the outcast, the loner, the idealist, the son. Death is such a weird thing to me, i have been able to grasp the concept, i understand what it is but yet not quite the brevity of it in itself. Finality is only a word. Not an action. But i've had practice, I've been the adult, the back up for my dad. Having the ability to feel human in front of me. Scary thought, to think that your parents are human, that have emotions like pain, discomfort, unhappiness, sadness. Never fully understand it till you see it, but than it's fleeting. So much of your life you depict your parents as super heros. as people with no boundaries doomed to a life of happiness.
I've been there for my dad. I've done things to help him that would make any person fall into a real depression, seen things that would scar. I've seen my dad as a human a few times. I've had the role reversed. I've had him crying on my shoulder. Situations kids aren't prepared for, don't think could ever happen. I've had practice. My emotions are on lock down. Only here in words. Only here in the late night voice. Only in moments of time where being human is intimate. I've heard my dad crying on the phone. I've had practice. Hardship is a lesson well learned with the zimmermans. How my family has grown apart. Siblings in a work enviroment.
I pick up the phone and strangely I already know. My poor dad, such a good man. A great guy, a great person, a great dad, a great husband, a great son. Doesn't deserve all this. Doesn't need his mortality tested. Doesn't need his emotions tinkered with. No more emotional connections. No more women in his life. No longer a husband and now no longer a son. I've had practice but i'm never prepared. My heart would break had it not been damaged already. He asks for me to come home. What else am i going to do. No hugs, no i love yous. Emotionally afraid. Emotionally tinged. Like frayed wires.
Death for me is something else. Ironic my dad's 56 and now lost his mom. I was only 18. I havent decided which is easier. Alone in the dark listening to music and thinking. maybe thats easier. picking up my phone ever so often to see if anyone is there. just writting. useless meandering words. little do they mean little do they impact. but it helps. it works. I just feel bad for my dad. No one deserves the bad things that happen to them, but especially my dad.
Not sure the ruin that would be brought upon me if he died. I owe him a lot. Im honestly not a good son. Not much of a good brother. I've checked out of my family. Not really on purpose. Not really sure why. I'm not doing my best. I'm skidding by. Doing good. but not my best. am i trying to figure things out. am i caring. am i just letting the bricks hit my face first before i react. before i do something. it's a life. it's something. 22 years is a lot, but not enough to figure it out. am i stalling. dragging my feet. I feel alone. but who isnt. i know i didnt use to. i'm only alone emotionally maybe. maybe thats ok. it helps me cherish the time i do have with people. it helps me be such a nice guy. who knows really.
time will always march forward. never stopping. we all will stop. it's destiny. sometimes it's just much easier to fall asleep next to someone. to have someone to feel there. to rid that feeling of being alone. to hear the breath. to open your eyes and see your not alone. to close them and fell that your not alone. a piece of mind. a peace of mind. to wake up and feel loved. to wake up with a partner. a back up. someone who you know will be back in the spot tonight. that no matter what happens that day that won't change. cities could level and money could be made, yet to fall asleep with the smell of the hair or the touch of their skin is more home than a house would ever be. for a place where you soul can feel shelter. time for your soul to dance. play. smile. and feel loved.
you play the hand that was dealt ya. no chance of winning when you fold. i just feel bad for my dad. only human. the confines of sleep helps. dreams to be made, dreams to come true. tommorow is a friday that can be certain. what happens may have aleady been penciled. I may only acting on what was already written. i can feel though. sometimes, everytime all the time you just wish for more. for that feeling you know to be real but so unattainable. thats life.
posted by Tim Zimm | 11:30 PM
1 Comments:
I've never watched the show "Six Feet Under" but I love the quote in their commercial where the girl asks, "Why do people have to die?" and the guy responds, "To make life worth living."
I think I'm comin' by your apt. tonight.
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