The Never Man: Recovery

Recovery is slow, and I burn through the days, so my eyes glisten bloodshot red

when I swallow the morning; I almost choke on the sun, needing to eat light

cause this darkness is keeping my arteries tight.

I took out a loan on time cause I never have enough left over
As it slips through my hands. I’m the Never Man, never could-never can.
I never juked right; I barely ran. I’m in recovery and it’s slow processing and second guessing, terminal outpatient raving and foolish, puerile cravings of a young man, aging. The years grant gifts of periodic joy, I wander and wonder why I play life so coy, why I’m shuffling my packaged feelings like an errand boy.

Recover. Repair. Under duress, my blessings are a semblance of sleepy-eyed gestures within spiritual haze. A hollow wish pulls an empty gaze, a blind rodent scurrying through a tattered maze. The abandoned home. The missing page. I’m the actor performing his show off-stage, the unheard soliloquy fueled with rage.

I wake up and grab my cup and choke down the sun. I want to feel it going down but my body’s too numb. The Never Man: never free, never done, never defeated but always unsung. Recovery is slow, but the madness is fun, and I burn through the nights just to choke down the sun. I learn through the days and the battles I have won. I burned through the age to the man I've become.

All The Way Gone

I've hustled my way down and around, kicking dirt across weathered roads, catching a glimpse of what life would look like if I really had a hold. I think I'm hurrying, how do I get there when the getting there just got up and burnt out? I wanna rush, I wanna go forth and leap across mountain ranges and feel the air whistling and rattling about me. Speed, man. Let's go.

Let's take it to the fullest extreme, all-out tornado trippin', I'm a whirlwind pyramid or something close to its functionality. I just wanna wake up on the go, my feet already pointed in the direction I need to travel. I wanna be part of the solution to make the world unravel...to cave it in, to break it and watch it rattle. I wanna be the KA-BOOM in your gasp. The shock in your awe. The chatter in your teeth.

Just wanna be. I know Freedom ain't what it used to be. It's a shadow of its own shadow split amongst their shadows. An after image that is beginning to fade. Freedom seemed like it was there one day, then gone, never said "good bye", "I'll see you" or "go to hell". Wonder if Freedom knew me? The same me that's jetting like a plane to see it torn up and done again, built up and spun and spun and then kicked to smithereens like a wooden board before Bruce Lee's foot.

Am I running to escape? Maybe so. But it's too late. I've already been caught and manhandled and bruised and bludgeoned. I got right back up and begged for some more. Look at me: I'm built for this, mom. I'm built for this. Look at what's left of your prodigal son. The son that keeps running til he can no longer run. A son that keep going till he was all the way gone. All the way gone, all the way to none.

Building

Relationships, man. They need to be cultivated. I am now realizing how I am lacking in my relational devotion to my family and friends. Lot of times I think it’s because of how I was raised, you know? My mother showed a lack of interest in most of what I did, even though I was a high achiever in school. She didn’t really show the kind of enthusiasm most parents would, but she showed her approval in different ways. But I wonder if those ways have stunted my growth as the type of person I need (and God needs) me to be?

I guess I shouldn’t dwell on that. I have made it through a lot. But I seem to shy away from the support others give me, or I don’t show the support I need to show to them. It’s like I have that same mentality that my mom had, and that hurts. I should be able to be better, for I know what I went through and how things were somewhat of a detriment to me. How can I be better?

I ask God for direction. I ask him to help me understand myself and why I am the way I am. Still, I don’t know if I’ll ever understand. Maybe that’s what it’s supposed to be like, anyway? Maybe God wants me to work and reach out and close those gaps that I have worked too long to widen.

I was with my friend Antonio at a release party for a local record label who just acquired a distribution deal from Universal Records. We spent a big part of the night waiting around just so he could talk to this label exec. When he finally did talk to him, the conversation might have lasted 5 minutes. Yet, my friend was satisfied, saying that the contact was crucial to his future endeavors.

As sleepy and tired as I was, I understood exactly what he meant. Who knows what that next relationship or contact could mean to your future? Don’t you owe it to yourself to at least reach out and risk giving a part of yourself, regardless of the possibility of rejection? I think so.


Stay sane and remember where your help comes from. Build your relationship with Jesus, first and foremost, then you may find that it comes a little easier to build them with others.

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