On the Other Side of Tomorrow

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOMORROW. Having beat down insomnia with sleeping pills and feeling that I am floating freely, enclosed within a foam filled crest of a cloudy salt laden wave, I am both here and there curled up and fetal. Suddenly without warning I am pulled down by a swirl of a contentious riptide my mind struggles in panic with my mortality and I wonder- will I see the surface again. Will I awaken on the other side of tomorrow? A parchment unfolds into another day The writing is unclear and mysterious In between I swallow and choke on the bitterness and tears that flood my eyes and burning that makes everything look murky. Day into day, night into night…the same. What is it? Can I conceive my own reality and will this ongoing depression be how my life will end? Will I awaken on the other side of tomorrow? Biting into the memory of my past, there are morsels of joy and happiness. What caused the sweet taste to morph into rancid bread crumbs? Contemplation, meditation do little to console. The inevitable drought and hunger are meticulously grinding away at my psyche. I am becoming a walking heretical invalid wrestling with ideas of conception and purpose. Will I awaken on the other side of tomorrow? Depressives have no answer. They take each day and play the snakes and ladders of the boards up and downs; but fate in the form of dice is already determined. It is a jack in the box surprise when the wind up tune causes our emotions to stumble and grumble and act out in a crazy dance like one sees in a Jerry Lewis movie and I think… Will I awaken on the other side of tomorrow? In memories, I hold the half truths of beliefs. They define me and oppress me. Sometimes they nurture me. Mostly I am indifferent and solemn to their meaning. Each day drifts along and along And I think… here I am on the other side of tomorrow, but does it really matter? CAK 4-16-2015