Thoughts At The Hour

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By Joshua Blake

It’s 5:17 a.m. and I’m still awake as I think about love, life, and the pursuit of normalcy.

I’m still in my jeans and I don’t know why – life’s funny like that. I wonder where I’m headed. What’s my calling, my destiny?

Does such a plane exist in this realm? The planet we call our home, Earth?

I’m tired of feeling uncertain, but there’s a flaw in my logic: everything in life is uncertain.

Self Expression

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By Joshua Blake

The picture you see above you was taken just ten days after tragedy struck my feigning soul.

I was heartbroken, distraught, confused, lost, lonely, and most importantly, scared. What felt like an eternity to acknowledge and realize – which really consumed 6 to 8 months – has made it’s way into a song I wrote encompassing about that same amount of time to figure out.

January 3rd, 2014 was the day – or night – of many things to come for me. I caught her stare and my fears were enveloped. I didn’t know what to do. Do I risk it all? What am I risking? You’re not with anyone and knowing you, you won’t look for someone anytime soon.

No! This is wrong. You’ve always wanted this to be with someone you loved – dare you say the love of your life so that you don’t lose yourself to her again. But then again, will she doubt me if I back away? Will she judge me for saying “No”? How much longer will you wait for this opportunity again?

Fuck it, you’re doing this. Oh, shit, okay, just, just be safe. You still have a chance to end this. What’s this? I’m flooded with intoxication. She’s pulling the hair on the back of my head as she kisses my neck so caressingly – so soothingly.

Wow, my first taste of desire – I think – yes! This is what I’ve been searching for: acceptance. She wants me for what I am. I feel confident. “Follow me,” I say to my kiniving vixen.

End this, now! No, you’ve come this far. You want this don’t you, yes? Just use protection. Shit, neither of you have it. Fuck.

I guess I’m doing this now even though you’re head screams “No!” as she’s straddled on top of me. Stop her now! What are you doing? Passion’s overtook my rationale, I can’t go back. I fucked up. This is my fault.

Afterwards I say “I’m sorry.” She asks why, and I tell her I felt like I took advantage. We go back from whence we came to a sort-of cuddle which is when I realized my loneliness. She’s not the one – clearly – wait, what’s that?

“You’re great, you know that?” She says to me. I pause my thoughts, holding her hand, as I look into her eyes and ponder her remark. I let go of her grip as I think more. I’m great? Like I’ve heard from everyone in my life since my birth?

Even you sensed it, you devishly, lovely person. Is it my Achilles heel with everyone I attract? I’ve sensed it my entire life. I have this charm about me that I can’t even fathom. Is my first impression greater than I originally thought? Do people see right through my fucked up exterior we call a physical body?

Am I too real for reality or too fake for daydreams? Maybe that’s the beauty I possess. Mystery.

Self love was always a lost concept to me. But seeking validation in others only brings on confusion and pain. Then again, perhaps I’m the exception. However I believe I’m past the seeking phase. I’m not seeking validation, I’m in need of normalcy – and I – am far from the word. I always will be the exception. I wasn’t supposed to be able to write, read, walk, dress myself – basic everyday functions. I do it all, and my beautiful disasterous mind convinces me that I’m undesirable and undeserving of love.

Why’s that? Because I’m not like “you?” I’m not normal? Well that’s awfully sad, but I believe most people with Cerebral Palsy are predisposed to that line of thought. The I-can-do-whatever-I-want generational parenting advice we’ve [Gen-Y] gotten is completely asinine, and doesn’t apply to people like me at all.

At the same time, I’ve pushed every boundary – I’ve gotten what I’ve wanted in life – except contentness within myself. I laugh at sad, traumatic things that’ve happened to me, because I’d rather not breakdown in tears.

Listening to the new song I’ve written made me cry – out of pride, shame and love. I can finally leave all of the pain behind, and possibly help someone in need of a message that they’re dying to hear.

I’ve always believed music was about the artist, but it’s not. Music’s about the things we’re all afraid to acknowledge and say out loud, so we listen, and listen we will, until one of us decides to speak to the rest of the audience.

Only In My Dreams

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By Joshua Blake

Lasting Impression:

I finally saw the look in your eyes.
Don’t run baby, don’t be shy.
I saw the tear fall down your fragile face,
When we lovingly embraced, our hearts palpitated and raced.

I kissed you softly on the cheek,
Proceeded to hug you despite the lackluster greet.
We’ve kissed once in a dream before,
Not this time around, as our touch was to adore.

I held you close as I whimpered and cried.
Feeling no longer lost, nor alive.
I felt something else, something stronger.
But, we can’t take the pain any longer.
It’s what we deserve for being sickenly somber.

From Me To You

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I wrote this on December 8th of last year, and in honor of World Suicide Prevention Day, I feel that this piece is quite fitting, and I hope it helps someone.

By Joshua Blake

    “This must be years of stuff, just pent up,” my father said to me as I broke down crying in his truck last week. I nodded in agreement. “I – I just can’t do this right now, you know? And I think I’m freaking out right now, because I’m finally acknowledging that I have something wrong with me – there’s something wrong with my head.”

    I suffer from depression and anxiety to a degree that I can’t even fathom. I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that none of this is my fault – even though my mind says otherwise at times – and this is why I have decided on dropping from next semester at Stony Brook.

    In fact, I’m sure I’m not the only one, as depression is the number one reason students drop out of college. Within the last 12 months, 52.8% of males and 64.8% of females have felt very sad at any time. Academics, finances and intimate relationships were among the most traumatic or difficult thing to handle within the last year as well, according to a survey of undergraduate students from the National College Health Assessment (N.C.H.A.)

    You could be one of these people, dear reader, but that’s okay. It doesn’t make you some statistic in a survey report. It makes you a part of a minority in this country that feels the same way you do, but maybe some don’t know how to ask for help – I know I didn’t. For a long time – and still to an extent – I’ve dealt with a severe self-image problem, which has decided to marry itself to the idea of perfection.

    It sounds lovely, doesn’t it? “The idea of perfection?” As if it’s some sort of fable – and that’s because it is. You see, when I look at someone walking around, I see them as a flawless person. I’ve been cursed with a disease – a physical disability called Cerebral Palsy.

    Cerebral Palsy is hatched due to brain damage either before, or after birth, and affects body movement and muscle coordination for life. The complications are due to a damaged Cerebellum, a part of the brain that controls motor functions. It does not get worse over time, it isn’t something you can catch, and it isn’t mental retardation. However a side-effect is depression, and it’s three to four times higher in someone who has a disability. Interestingly, this is based off of how well someone can cope with their disability, not the severity, stated by Brandon Fisher, who runs cerebralpalsyworld.com.

    So, if you’re reading this and you have no physical disability, to me, you’re perfect. You have no problems, no anxiety, no depression, no fears. If you’re someone who has one, you might feel the same way. I’ve recently understood that just because someone is “normal” doesn’t mean they don’t have problems.

    Everyone has problems. Everyone gets lonely. Everyone gets sad. Everyone has doubt. For those with depression, the dial is always up, and you never feel like you’re gonna catch a break. I stay up late screaming and crying in silence for someone to save me, when I’m the person I have to save. And that’s why I’m dropping from the spring semester.

    I’ve been in a mental loop for the last three and a half years, and I’m finally registering all of the pain and suffering – not only that I’ve been through – but the pressure I’ve put on myself. I have fought for every breathe since I was born – told that I’d never walk or write, or do virtually anything. I’ve proved every person, every situation, wrong in my life. Do you know what that does to someone? It gives them the mentality that it’s them against the world. But in reality, it’s me against myself. “You don’t know when to quit,” my father said. He’s right. I never will.

    That’s why I know I need help. I’m tried of fighting this battle all alone, and part of that starts with me. I’ll be seeing a therapist long-term come the new year, where I can talk my way through my issues.

    I constantly worry about what has happened or what will happen. It’s lovely – like a drug you can’t escape – playing back memories in a different light to dream of a better outcome…or a worse one. Then I wonder just what the hell I’m gonna do in life. Will I do anything? Will I ever have a relationship? Will I become a music journalist? That is my dream, right? Livin’ in the city writing for Rolling Stone – that’s the one. But then my inner demon comes to life, killing every hope I ever had, until I realize that my mind is my inner demon.

    It’s a weird feeling once you know that the one who’s chasing you is yourself. The only question I have now is who’s chasing who? Am I chasing myself, or am I running?