The voyage started 42 years ago, in a world very different. Where people actually talked to one another. A man was valued by the effort he applied to his work.
Today we text like we breath, expect to be paid for doing little as possible, and love is a convince only when someone is giving more than the other.
As the waves begin to grow, I wonder does anyone even notice I am missing? Will I or am I missed?
All the trip was supposed to do is give me a chance to get away from the daily grind of nothing. Restoring my inner self, to a positive energy. Instead the ship has gone off course and lost all power. The crew have disappeared. Alone to my thoughts I wonder what went wrong.
After all the shop is several years old, and proven to make it through many storms. The crew was one of the best to ever sail.
Drifting is my life I suppose, after all I could never focus my energy to anyone thing or person. Staying in one place was even worse. I love to experience new places. After a period of time, I
lost. Or more importantly I fall out of love where I am, and I find any reason I can to leave.
Writing, some do it to keep a record others to tell a story. As I drift up and down I search for the
reason I am writing. I suppose it is because there is nothing else to do at the moment.
Locked away in this 12×20 cabin aboard a lost at sea ship. There is not much to expect. The tv, well
with no power it is of no good. My computer is dead, and my phone no signal.
I knew a few kids in high school that wrote, they enjoyed creating these stories. Creating characters to live their own lives through. It was there way of escaping the reality they lived. I never understood that. Even though my own life was hell, I found other ways to escape while maintaining my own
When I was somewhere around 3-4 years old I woke up one night, looked in my closet from my bed.
Started screaming. My dad had brought home a cardboard cut out of some Indian chief and it scared the crap out of me. I swore up and down it came to life, and he was coming to kill me.
The sea the air and lack of food. I am seeing that Indian chief he is laughing at me. I must be slowly losing what is left of my functioning brain.
From birth I was very sick, not expected to live. From there I have had several head injuries and seen death a few times. I am not scared. But worried. Even though no one ever cared about me. If I die this way, will anyone care? What will they say?
Never having friends as a child, my mother destroyed any chance of a normal childhood for me. The friends I would talk and play with where always in my head. Sadly they too would leave me. Perhaps it was for the best, they would just be stuck with me now.
Did you know that the best way to destroy a person is by never loving them. Love what is that? My parents pretended to have love for me and my sisters and towards one another. But in reality they where filled with the darkness of evil. Darkness the absence of light, if your one to believe in God. Love is God, and God is light. Where as darkness is with out love, with out God. My mom tried many times to act as though she had God. Sadly the demons in her own life and in her head, prevented her from experiencing God, form knowing love.
That over time consumed her. Everyone was against her, and out to destroy her. Same with my father, but in his case, he once knew what love was. But along the way he lost it, and never cared. It eventually destroyed our family.
I can remember I was 3 my dad was finishing an addition to our house. We needed more room. Four kids and it needed two more bed rooms. I had the master bedroom, I never understood why. My middle sister the poor girl, she slept in the hall/back stairs. Not totally, it was just an open space in the hall with the back stairs. Where my dad added a wall and door. I think as I look back, her issues started there. She was a very talented musician, and very social. But at home she was kept in the closet. I wish I had taken time to get to know her. We never really clicked. My guess was when I came along she was put away and forgotten. Where as my older sister was always quite, and did her best to manage everything. Picking up the slack my mom created. I never saw that in her as a boy, but looking back I do. God was preparing her for a very important job in her adult life.
Back to the addition I can remember sitting in what was to be my little sisters room. Sitting in a rocking chair holding my little sister. Rocking her as my dad worked on the room. We had a bond that makes me sad when I think about the loss of it. Where ever one went what ever one did so did the other. You could not separate us. She was my little sister and I loved her so very much.
As look at the wall I see it has been 8 days, and I am about out of fresh water. The seas have calmed down. Almost to calm, it is rather scary looking at the horizon. The sky has been overcast, so trying to get a bearing from the stars is not possible.
My life has been filled with darkness as I search for the light. Drifting from place to place, riding the tide. More times then not, getting caught in the storm. Some where around 2 years old I cracked my forehead open, then a short while later I split my chin. Really never understood what happened.
Looking back at the wake the ship is making I think of all the weird stuff I have been through. Around 8 my dad had a job offer in Pennsylvania so we packed up and moved. It was a weird deal, there was really no discussion, we just up and moved. We ended up living in a haunted house that enabled the darkness in my mothers life to slowly transfer more into all of us. One night when we where having dinner, all the dishes that my mom had in a china cabinet fell out and a few flew across the table. Later on in that house, I had a rc truck. One night the controller was in my bed room and the truck was in the living room. Over night every one kept hearing it run around.. finally we left our rooms at the same time only to see the truck dart across the floor. I should add, it had no batteries. My mom believed a man was always standing over her in bed holding an axe waiting to cut off her head. That only caused more issues. My dad felt we kept coming up with stupid stories and just wanted to move back to Michigan. I think that is when he really started to resent having a family. After all we where affecting his life and his job. My dad’s life was working, and working hard. Anything that stood in the way was not acceptable. Later on that year in school, I had this girl that refused to leave me alone. She loved me for some reason. But I would not have any of it, and one day I turned around when she called my name and I punched her smack in the nose. She started to cry, and I felt like a big jerk. Weird, after that I really liked her and she still liked me. Wonder what ever happened to that girl?
To be Continued soon:
When I look into the water I can see the waves, washing away the tears of the day. The current carries the fear and dreams far from the actual reality. I can remember after we moved back to MI, there was a place I would go to hide from the reality of my life. At home my mom’s mental stability was rapidly declining and my father was becoming more distant from his wife, his children and the life he built. Spending as much time at work as he could. Coming home creating projects just to hide from what his life had become. The yelling, and fighting was intense most of the time. Many nights, you would go to bed praying you did not have to wake up. Crying most the night, for the life you knew was hell. When I could I ran away for the day, my adventurous side took me on mini explorations of the area we lived. I found a property, that was still rather wild in a wo rld vastly developing. It must have been about 50 or so acres that still had a large stand of trees, and a small meadow. I would go there when things where really bad at home. The peace and quite along with no people around. Brought me a sense of peace. You could hear the birds, and every now and then if you where still. There was a deer that would come out. Never spoking, and never coming close enough to touch. It would come to say hi, and I felt at times when it should up. That love was still able to be felt in life.
I searched the ship today, found some batteries and a pallet of MRE’s and fresh water. Best guess I have about 25 days worth, 50 if I cut each one in half. Wow, 50 more days. Where is the tide taking this ship? Wonder why no other ships have seen me, why no air search for it? Was I sent out on a doomed mission just to be forgotten? Was this societies way of getting rid of me?
One day after school, I returned home to what I thought was an empty home. Not unusual expect for the fact that the front door was open. As I went in I called out mom, and nothing. At this point I began to worry. Mom had not been dealing with life very well and I was scared for her. I went to my parents room looking for her. The door was locked. I banged and banged on the door nothing. I did what any kid would do, I picked the lock to get in. My mother jumped out of bed, grabbed a baseball bat and tried to kill me. Its a bad day when a little boy has to run then hit his mother to save them both. She immediately retreated to her bathroom and this time could get locked in. As my dad hung the door in a manner that I just popped the hinges. Only to find her hiding in corner by the toilet and empty pill bottles every where. Instantly I got on the phone calling for help. It is very sad when the fire department and police show up and say sorry we had to come again. After fighting my mom, they took her to the hospital. Where she lived for a short time.
I have always felt that I let my mother down, she put me on a protective pedestal. After all I had already cheated death once and for that I was a miracle to be cherished. From that point my love no matter how much I tried. My mother discarded me. Dad, acted as though I did the right thing and tried for a short time to love me as a son.
Drifting towards another storm I can see the lighting and swelling seas from my porthole. God has all was placed me into the storms for some reason. What is the plan to torture my God? What mission are you preparing me for? Looks like I have maybe 12 hours before the ship reaches the storm. I best go and get all I can from the rest of the ship and prepare for a rough ride.
To be Continued soon:
As the storm gets closer, the dolphins are playing in the swelling waves. They remind me of my little sister and I as kids. We would play together all the time. She was very bright, add my creativity we never got bored. Often we would fight about the rules, as we made them along the way. One of her favorite games was monopoly, and she always had to be the banker. A sweet little girl, unless someone else wanted to be the banker. Actually she was very good at it. She excelled in math and reading very early in life. Our games had gotten to be rather competitive and sometimes not fun at all. It was funny I can remember trying to buy all I could, and she would remind me how much money I had. As if to tell me I could not afford such things. When it came to games she was the leader, but out side she followed me. We would play horse and hangman all the time, but she was a much better shot than I was. I never tried to hard, because I wanted her to have a good time.
The ship seems to be taking on water someplace, the sinking feeling when something is wrong. Suppose I should get out of the cabin and have a look about. The fear is, if we are taking on water and we are sinking. What can I do about it?
My middle sister was a unique girl. She had a way about her that she never cared about anything, good or bad. But when things did not go her way, you really did not want to even glance in her direction. Yet she love me and our sisters. When her and our oldest sister where younger they got alone great, but as they became teenagers. They grew apart. Personality differences, I suppose that is normal. She seemed to have more friends than anyone I know. But not completely loyal to anyone person. Having a best friend, but always keeping her at a distance. We all had trust issues, I always assumed that played a role in it.
Packing, the main propeller is leaking. The packing is lose, I did my best to tighten it up and repack it. We will just have to wait and see. It’s funny really that I even know how to do this. My whole identity has revolved around packing to go and fix it. Yet I have nothing in my life to pack, and as broken as I am there is no fixing me.
I can remember one summer afternoon me and my little sister where playing outside on the swing set. Possibly in ways it was not meant for. I always reached for the sky, while my sister was the gymnast. After one of her little moves she somehow managed to dig her knee into an exposed pipe on the set. Removing a very large chunk of flesh. With out even thinking I swept her up in my arms and ran in the house yelling start the car. I wrapped her knee in a rag and ice packed it. My mom ran out saying what happened. I said start the car her knee just fell off. With out even looking my mom loaded us up and off to the er we went. It looked real bad, but it was only a few stitches.
Fixing things came naturally to me, with out any real knowledge of how something worked or was put together. If it was broken, I could fix it. I could never explain it, and often get into fights about what I can do. But when the shit hits the fan, everyone always came to me for repair. I had a way to talk things out, if it was people broken. If it was stuff, I just tore into it and made it work.
The idea that we go to school to learn is absurd, we go to school to forget. People are born with all the knowledge they ever need. But society likes to dictate what one should be able to know and or do in life. This ship was built to float, it defies gravity by using trapped air to keep tons of steel on the water instead of on the bottom of the sea. Just imagine if ships where built the way people are taught. It would be full of holes never able to hold anything. Containing energy, and redistributing it to how societies want to use it.
Mom had an issue of using, her main drug was money. She would go to the mall for 8 hours, come home with thousands of dollars of stuff. Nothing for the kids, nothing for her husband, and nothing for the home. Just stuff, that she insisted she needed. During the Gulf War, she bought every newspaper that had at least one line it about the war. Mind you we knew no one serving, and had no reason to be that informed. If you asked her why. She would say I need to have a record of this. For what the funny farm. Really we had stacks of crap that somehow the society my mom lived in said she needed everything she could obtain. Funny thing she never obtained anything of value or real use. Now if nature had taken over long ago instead of society, she would never had been that way. The woman broke her leg when I was very little. It really is not funny, but how she milked it was. Sure for the first week or two one would expect there to be pain and not being able to move around much. But before long, the house was a real mess, and dinners where not getting cooked. I can remember my dad coming home yelling and screaming that dinner was not ready. Then he had to cook, dads cooking was fish sticks and mac n cheese. I get that now, I hate to cook too. Guess I got that from my dad.
As the storm is right upon the ship right now, there is no end in sight. The waves are crashing on the deck, and even with it’s massive size. The ship is bobbing in the waves like a toy. I was going to have a few drinks and try to forget my own storm. But I am already drunk from all the violent movement of the sea.
Th ere was a time my parents where away, I can’t remember why at the moment. But my middle sister smoked, and she thought she was smart about it. Expect I found her stash. I did what any boy would do, I helped my self to them. For a while she could not figure out what was going on. But then she caught me. She threatened to tell mom and dad on me. My response was, but I got them from you. I do not remember what happened after that. But that was a turning point in our relationship, not much. We actually started to hang out and do things together. She was cool and I got ride with her. The strange thing is I only remember the bad stuff mostly. One thing I do remember she got a car, not a great one and I got to help her clean it up and go for a ride in it. Poor girl had the worst luck with cars. She had not had it a week and it had been banged up. I think it happened a few times and she went through a few more cars. I told her she needed to have a rubber maid car So when it got hit, it would just pop back out.
Sometimes I think I was maid out of rubber maid. Over the course of my life I have been banged up pretty bad both physically, emotionally and mentally. Yet I get back up and keep on going. Maybe I am to stupid to stay down or I am really blessed to suffer.
Even though the storm is over head, I have to get out of this cabin for a bit. So I am sitting in the crows nest, just soaked to the core. Watching the waves as they crash with lighting. Wondering, am I crazy? After all I am at one of the highest points on the ship in the middle of a storm.
To be Continued soon:
Even though the storm has passed, the skies are dark and the air is cold as ice. There is a fog, and the mist from the sea is bone chilling. From my quick run through the ship weathered the storm fairly well. I am wondering will I too weather the storm I am going through in my life at this time?
My oldest sister had dreams of a new car for her birthday one year. She prayed and worked so hard to try to get one. I knew she never would, as our parents where not very big on helping us in anyway. I wanted her birthday wish for here as well, she deserved something grand. Every day she did her best for myself and my sisters. Caring for us and trying to keep the peace in our stormy home. I had a few dollars saved from birthdays and such, so I bought her a toy car. I placed it in the driveway before she woke up. Then I went to tell her she needed to get up and go see what was in the drive way. She was beyond happy from what I remembered. Sadly that little car is what eventually drove my sister to a new era in our lives. I say sadly because she was moving on, not in a happy way. But forced from me and my sisters because of my father. Over time my oldest sister and middle sister grew apart. My youngest sister never had much of a chance to create a bond with her oldest sister.
We often reflect on life when all hope seems lost. Thinking of all we could have done, and how much we really lost. Sometimes we need to experience pain in order to feel love.
The pain of looking back in my life brings tears from deep within my soul. As much as I gained my journeys so far. The loss is equal. My mom when she was doing ok with life. Would spend hours with me. We did all kinds of crafts together. She took me to craft fairs and we would plan out projects. Most never saw the light of day. The time we spent together was special. I slowly learned my mom, hid her fear of her illness from her self. Living in denial most of the time. It would piss me of so much. I would just yell at her to wake up and see the truth. Mom your so much stronger than this. You know you are, you can beat this. She would just hide and let the illness consume her. Over time I developed a great hate for what my mother became. I shed all love for her, and eventually all hope.
Hope, it is suppose to take you from hell to God. Yet for many they lose hope and often feel they lost God’s love. I have been there so much in my life. Taking a break from the childhood, I will explain some maybe.
There was a time when I needed my father the most in my life. I had already been a grown man on my own for 10 years. Had a little family and already fallen from the grace of God. There where many issues that surfaced from my past. Creating even bigger new issues that eventually lead me down the road. We where living a short distance from my dad, and food was very little. We where facing no heat, and eviction. Even though it had been years since I had seen or talked to my dad I had built up the nerve to call him and say dad your son needs help. I need you to help me make sure your grandchildren are safe and provided for. It was a long shot I know. He simply said no and hung up the phone. Hope it was drained from me as life is drained out of a hunters fresh kill.
That point turned out to be the result of a string of missed opportunity, and constant failures.
To be Continued soon:
As I sit and write this, I feel an emptiness. A loss of compassion for humanity. As daily I strive so hard to over come the past that hunts me, and to do something positive. This work, will be on going and currently I am unsure of how long it will be. I invite you to check back daily or weekly to see the progress. Over time I will add chapters so that you can maintain a place of where you have already read. As well Please excuse any grammatical errors, as I am writing from the heart while creating a story. Thus proofing will not happen until my story is complete. If you enjoy this work please feel free to share, comment and if moved to do so please support my continuing efforts via this link: