CII (102) The Bottom
Today, I’m gonna share something that I wrote for Mark Shanahan’s class “Story Slam” at Jen Waldman Studio which you can enroll in today if you want to join the online studio for April. It starts on Monday, and I can’t recommend it highly enough. The piece I shared earlier tonight is called “The Bottom of The Ocean” which may be part of the new Solo Piece I’m continuing to develop, but it also has references in it to a song I wrote with my band a couple of years ago, and one of my newer quarantine creations. Instead of showing you the lyrics for those segments, I’m gonna link to the actual songs they reference. If you want to hear the whole thing in context, stay tuned for “The M.A.N.” my solo piece, in whatever form that evolves into in the coming months.
For now, here’s “The Bottom Of The Ocean:
Three years ago
It could have all ended.
Crash.
My face.
On the Williamsburg Bridge.
How did I get there?
I was really going through it,
But you would’ve thought I’d had it all together.
How did I get there?
How much time did I lose?
How much of my soul did I gain?
I went into the dessert, but I came out another man.
How did I get here?
How lucky have I been.
I don’t think it was an accident.
A cry for help?
Screaming in the wind,
No answer.
Only,,,, (sigh)…me.
Who else?
Who can save a man who doesn’t want to save himself?
Maybe you didn’t see.
How many times the life raft was thrown to me.
And I burned it to the motherfuckin’ ground!
The bridges.
The chances.
The Ships.
How are your ships?
I jumped ship so many times
I found myself adrift,
Tossed about the torrent,
Pulled down by the rip,
Grasping for the surface to the fragments of my shattered relationships.
Enveloped by the darkness,
Hiding from the light.
“It’s a funny being taken under the wing of a dragon.
It’s a lot warmer than you think.”
Think.
How did I get here.
How did I get there.
My face on the concrete.
Think.
Breaking down, but not broken.
Slightly scathed, but I still have my teeth.
Maybe slightly scarred on my cheek,
But what’s another scar? That will only play to my complicated, conflicted wolf man mystique.
Who am I playing to, and what are the keeps?
How did I get here?
I must have been a sleep.
One too many drinks.
“Are you sure you’re good to ride?”, they said.
I always land on my feet!
I remember crossing that bridge,
Then… black out.
My face was on the concrete.
“Are you okay?”
Asked the good samaritan as he passed me splayed out on the street.
I’m not broken.
I still have my teeth.
In fact I’m pretty unscathed, save for this little mark on my cheek.
How much time did I lose?
How long was I out?
How did I get here?
…Me.
My better parts were trying to send the flares.
Telling me, “You’re getting way off course and heading into dangerous waters, turn back! Find your North Star!”
But I wasn’t listening.
I ain’t trying hear that!
I was making a masterpiece of my own self-Destruction.
But the ancestors were trying to save me.
The ancestors are trying to save you!
I could have ended it all three years ago.
The drinking, the self-sabotage, the bullshit.
But I wasn’t ready to leave the shackles yet.
Until one day I saw butterfly effect.
One straw can break the camel’s back.
Small choices have big effect.
Little acts of carelessness can destroy many lives.
Despite my continued journey of recklessness,
I kept being thrown life rafts.
Opportunities.
Chances.
I was never really alone, even when I pushed everybody away,
Built up walls of separation.
Still my better angels came for me.
What did I do to be worthy of redemption?
Why me?
Why am I worth being saved?
Maybe because we’re born worthy.
True value can never be lost.
We may never reach our full potential,
Because there are no limits to possibility.
We each have our own unique set of eyes, our own paths, our own unique version of reality.
There is no objective reality.
So every perspective is valuable.
If small acts of carelessness can ruin countless lives,
Then it follow that small acts of bravery and kindness can save the world.
Maybe it did all end for me three years ago, because who’s me?
The monster that I thought I was or the person I’m now rising to be?
Maybe it was my ancestors that saved me, or the present or future version of me.
Maybe yesterday was just a bad dream.
The world we all knew ended 13 months ago.
It’s up to us today to dream, build, act and speak.
Show up today for the version of tomorrow we want to be.
