Unfolding

               I was on cloud nine. I built my castle on the clouds only to see it fall. I have been living inside my head and not in the world I am in. All of these I’s and still it could not move the world. My voice was only good to those who too are lost and there I was, a delusional madman preaching to the mob. The mob’s approval began my source of strength and I thought they made me their king. I felt like royalty for wherever I walk I hear my name whether called upon by praise, despised by scums of the earth and feared by maggots. I was foolish to crown myself from words floating on air. Were those words not true? The rumor of an Archuleta’s empire? All men dream to be great and only few did become one says posthumous folklore. At what price? The throne I yearn was a temptation. Power corrupts, my fame clouded my vision. I was weak to hear praise and not know what to do with it. I did love the people; I did serve them but I must admit that the masters in this world do not want

              If one truly speaks from the abundance of the heart, then words are not too much to ask for. If the heart is empty, then silence echoes. Letters are the thin fabric that binds distant hearts and with all trust let it be the truth. A truth, not simply outright in complacency to please the other but a truth that projects the heartfelt thoughts. Hearing what one ought to hear can be manipulated with lies and if truth be told in such manner, myriad deception or absence of presence occurs. However, if one ought to hear what truly is meant by the speaker, then there is no other window to where the connection is evident.               I am troubled and lost at times for actual presence is at bay. I do not wish to delude myself with my own echoes, but let those be coming from you. Your lips taste sweet and your body warm, but words comfort the soul. A vessel without the within is an empty husk. If it be wine, water or piss then let me drink either through my ears.      

It has been three years and I have never regretted nor doubted the fact of my marriage to her. The decision was borne out of choice and borne out of love and if it was not, I could have moved on and changed my direction when our relationship was challenged and cut off during those years. Yet, I chose to stay not because of conscience nor was I forced to but because I truly love her. Stern as I am, I rarely give my heart to people. I can relate and talk with almost anybody, but most of the times they are simply mechanical as if I was condemned to interact given the situation that I am in. However, I am the kind of person who carefully selects who to be intimate with. I can be there for anybody, but I chose not to because I can only be with someone who I know is worth it. My wife is worth it. We had so much conflict before, especially when she was still in the process of overcoming a problematic home environment, role confusion and deep sense of self-pity coming from self-doubt. Ha