Funny. Sometimes the disintegration of the pedestal, and I mean the
proverbial you can do no wrong pedestal, is something that occurs
naturally through the weathering of time, or space. But sometimes, and
for some reason I have done this not just once, but a few times, I take
the high dive face first downward, and smash to little bits
once I hit ground. This is with friends, lovers, parents, bosses. I
don’t know why I do it, and each situation is completely different and
foreign to the one before it.

There are so many different reasons, and I haven’t really found
sanctuary in just one particular reason, but maybe riding the line down
a few of them.

Is it that I don’t feel worthy?
Perhaps. Sometimes when you make it your life to do without (and yes in
a martyr-like kind of way I admit), you just can’t deal with really
believing that you deserve this pretty.

Is it that I am bored? I talk with friends of mine about this, and this isn’t the kind of I need something to happen in my life kind of thing. No.

Is it that I like drama? I have
really been trying to stray away from all ideals and ideas of drama and
its manifestations, yet it still is a running theme if not in my own
existence, then in the existences of people around me. It drains me and
inspires me all in one fell swoop.

Is it that I am a bad person? I
have no idea. Sometimes when I jump off the pedestal it is because I
feel like perhaps I’m just answering my call of duty, to fuck up.

Regardless, I took the high dive straight down into my own
little abysmal hell.  A proverbial hell. And honestly there is
more hell in the fact that the pedestal is shattered and unrecognizable
than in the actual process of it all. Yeah, I’m human, I screw up. But
the pedestal power is the power that keeps your mind calm in the
twilight hours, the skin peaking and whispering hours. It’s the
pedestal that makes all my worries evaporate like water on a skillet.
It’s the pedestal that makes me feel special. And when I have
kamikaze bombed it, I wonder if the pedestal is some weird metaphorical
throne of sorts. It’s not there, I can feel it. The difference between
shining like that, and flickering like that. Between being the best and a
nice baubly accessory.

To top it all off, I have immersed myself completely and fully into
this whacko stressful state of mind. The state of mind where my chest
shoots fucking horrible pain, and all of my dreams, unless I am cloaked
in a protective layer of arms, involve me getting murdered, or being
chased by someone, or having someone hurt me or someone else I care
about.

When I was young they were very vivid. I dream in color most of the
time, and it’s only the super short monochrome ones that are not. I
have been haunted my entire life with these fucking crazy whacked out
violent dreams. Back then, the most I could hope for in terms of a
peaceful, yet fucking horrifying psychologically occurrence, was for me
to dream about my mom and sister leaving me at the grocery store. They
did that a lot, actually…not in conscious waking time, but they
always had this little two person army of sorts, and yeah, I was
jealous. I’m pretty jealous of everyone who has a great relationship
with their parents. As it stands now, I think my family knows the least about
me of anyone I come into contact with.

So back to the pedestal…I miss it already and it has only been gone a
few days. All glimmery and crystal, catching the light this way and
that. I almost fell off of it last weekend through some
misunderstanding of work and obligations and such. But it was me just
being bratty and gay, not really the way I would like to be.

I rule most of the time. I feel like lately my malleability is more
permanent, meaning that I am only able to waiver on certain things. I
have a very open open mind and nothing really scares, intimidates, or
mortifies me. I am not scared by challenge or differences of opinion.
Any differences of opinion lately that I have discovered and more
readily dealt with than they were before, meaning I used to take every
argument as some sign of something crazy and out of control. And I
would push push push. Now I choose my battles wisely, and really
haven’t been battling anyone (aside from myself) to any great degree
worth mentioning. The doors have been swinging, people dropping in to
say hello,  some who have quietly though not unwantingly left.

Whether through lying, misrepresenting yourself, holding stuff back, not
divulging everything, or just not being yourself, to take the high dive
off the pedestal is something I hope to never do again.

The view from down here sure isn’t the same, that’s a fact.