Thinking of a master plan

I can try to be poetic and a total artfag about this but why bother
It is so hard to talk about this without romanticizing the subject
but I guess that's what I am good at
besides it makes the pill a little less hard to swallow

Twenty years ago today, March 28, 1988, was the first time I had ever attempted to harm myself in a physical manner.
I will never forget it.

An anniversary.
I was 15 years old. Awkward but I still seemed to have some great friends.
And I had a girl.
isn't it always a girl?
Up until that day I HAD a girl.
My heart shattered when she left me.
as it always is when you are 15 and awkward
I walked inside my house.
Mom asked me what was wrong
she always knew.....even states away..still
I showed her the chain which was returned to me at lunch
she asked if I was ok and I said yes
I walked in my room
and sat down on my bed.
my waterbed that is...it was after all 1988
a year after I discovered paid in full and license to ill
it was a good year thus far
but I sat down on my waterbed and could not possibly find a way for my young mind to comprehend the fact that I had lost what I thought was my whole entire world
sheesh
if it was all that simple now
I remembered I wept deeply
from my duende Ami would say
and I could not stop
and then anger appeared in my room
I had an 8x10 picture frame that I think used to have a picture of either
Madonna or Cyndi Lauper
it was 1988 after all
A year before I would hear Perry Farrel for the first time
I sat on the edge of my waterbed
and placed the frame to my head
and in the next instant I smashed it against my head
confusion and anger and frustration had built up inside me
and now it was all running down my face in steady streams of crimson
I remember the only thing I could say over and over
in a voice so quiet I don't even think it came out
was "mom....mom...mom"
my sister was sent in my room to see what had broke
the noise of the shattered glass had alerted my mom
giving my sister
10 years old at the time
the task of finding her older brother
bleeding profusely from his head
in the instant she opened my bedroom door
our relationship shattered like that picture frame
I was painted as weak and unstable
and still remain that way in her eyes
like I never had a chance to be the big brother
my dad who worked 23 hours a day it seemed like was called home from work
it was serious I thought
after the trip to the E.R
and after the 2 butterfly band aids were slapped on my head
he came in my room
and asked if I was ok
the most love I would ever notice from him
but now I know it didn't take such a selfish act to see it
my mom tried to pass it off as an accident
everyone knew that was horseshit
so.....
why why why....huh...huh..huh
I know one thing
I did not want to die that day
that is some other level bullshit I was not quite ready for
I just wanted that pain and heartache out of my body
but scarring my head that day
wasn't even painful
I didn't feel that glass cut me open
except when I crawled in to bed that night and a shard cut my foot.....
I was 15 and.....
15 sucks
so 20 years down the line....
that day is still significant
the day depression said"Hey how's it goin...I am gonna fuck some shit up in your life for a while so......just wanted you to know...."
and after all these years
and all the heartache
and all the pills
that day stands out
more than any other day
I can say I do not regret that day
20 years ago
or my actions
it made me who I am
and taught me to embrace whatever feeling I had
whether it cut me up or made me fly
since that day that is how I have chose to be
I want to hurt to the core if I am in pain
if I am in love I want it to rattle my bones with butterflies
that was 20 years ago and sometimes
I feel like I am still that 15 year old awkward kid
only with more scars and tattoos
and stories that go back to '88
that will help my son
hopefully
not have a March like I did



Out of all the stories I have told about my life
and all the experiences I have had
I have referred to and been inspired by this one the most
even unknowingly repeating it in therapy twice
like a dumbass I might add
and I am sure I could have gone in to more detail about that day here
but I will save that for the next time I decide to rehash March 28,1988
Oh and don't think I won't!!!!

oh and for reassurance.......that WAS twenty years ago
and I still walk this planet
a testament to perseverance
A true heritage of excellence

"It aint nothing but sweat inside my hand....."