Suddenly numb, Uncomfortably numb...

I got my feet kicked out from under me yesterday, got totally blindsided by something I hadn’t even given a thought to.  I was packing up my big desk, emptying the drawers, clearing and cleaning getting ready to move the beast to its’ new home.  The job proceeded as such jobs usually do, the things used daily, a few of the ok, that’s where that went kind of finds, a yuk or two.  The usual. 

When the last drawer was empty I took a break, when I stepped back into the room afterwards something slammed into my mood like a two ton wrecking ball, left me spinning hard for the remainder of the night and into today.  Not down, not blah or blue or flat or angry, just numb.  It hit so hard I was totally numb so suddenly it was a bit frightening, really.  It took an effort that carried through the night into dreamstate, almost Escherville, to figure out what had happened.  I did it to myself, but I never saw it coming. 

Sometime this morning a question popped into my head... “How many convicts get released from prison, and then get a job where they get to take apart the prison they were incarcerated in?”  Not very many, that’s for damn sure.  But that’s what breaking down that desk was to my subconscious, it was taking apart where I’d been imprisoned for years.  I walked back into that room and got smacked by all the things I’d felt sitting in that corner, and all the things I knew I should have been feeling but couldn’t acknowledge, not then, not under the circumstances.  All the despair of watching my wife fade into bitter senility, all the anger, all the helplessness of being pinned in a corner to get beaten daily by her attitudes I’m now convinced were seeded on her by a pair feminazi lesbian grifters working her for money, pinned there to endure rather than break the promise I made with God for my witness.  Sorry bitches (NOT), I’m stronger than you gave me credit for. But then again, you really don’t know much about men.  All you know are the steers and queers.  I’m neither. You couldn’t make me help you validate all your hatred for anything male.  You wanted me to abandon her so you could add my story to your list of justifications for your way of life.  Didn’t happen.  Might have, you got close, but it didn’t.  God gave me a couple of genuine friends beyond the reach of your poison, you couldn’t quite turn my sentence into true solitary where you might have had a chance.  I owe the Almighty another effort on His behalf, because all things taken into consideration it’s beyond believing Alex and Leia and Ira and Irisha were a coincidence, finding them then and there is just to far beyond the laws of averages to be believed a chance encounter... examples of good women to set against the influence of bad women on my life.  No, that didn’t happen by chance.

 

Anyhow, I sat numb all night, started painting by force of habit, didn’t have a clue what I was trying to paint until it was finished.  It came out almost what I didn’t know I wanted to portray, almost, so I figured I might as well post it along with the story.  Last night wasn’t a very restful night’s sleep, but it was productive.  Now I know just how deep the damage goes, I’ve found the bottom.  It can be fixed.

Gonna be interesting to see what expression winds up on her face the next time I take a try at capturing an image of Malaguena.  Very interesting.