Arnold Wilson Writes

In the end I’m just a junkie. A wretched alcoholic, fiening to drown in every drop of whiskey. Getting high watching time fly. Shoutout to the prophet. We weren’t listening then and can’t hear it now, for all this damn noise. The steam created by the mixture of smoke, my hot breath, and the ice cubes sitting in Jack Daniels set the scene. Clarity in the fog, that’s where the junkie lives. I ain’t never banged shit, or sucked a glass dick. And, I don’t plan to; but I’ll never say never again. Ever seen a down bitch flip, never thought I would. That’s for another fucking time. Now I done everything right; took my ass to work, made sure these kids straight, my people straight, momma took care of. I even carried my ass to the gym; can’t get soft. Motherfucker I been thirsty all day! Water ain’t not help. I’m tripping. Shit, like I was saying. I ain’t never been no crack head, tweaker, or on that boy. But, they’s been plenty of times I been nodded off on some pills. Drunker than shit driving all on the sidewalk. Lucky my ass made it home, at fourteen in my momma’s minivan, all the way cross town cutting the fuck on up. Man, how did I make it here? Look at God. Still feel right on the edge. Guess I’ll pour another drink.

Oh Great Rock Mountain

You and your kin are the original sons of God on Earth.

No longer do I seek to conquer you.

No more am I in conflict with your rivers.

Forgive me.

For all the times I climbed with a mind to overcome.

Be with me.

I only come to commune with you.

Overwhelm my soul.

My home is among the Rhododendron and Mountain Laurels.

Its terribly cold outside. Seems to fit. The nights have been longer, but rest seems to elude me. This dark office gives some solace, a peace from broken familiar relationships. I think of the years gone past, those lost. Some hurt never goes away. Folks say it gets better with time. It don’t! Its worse when your people…

I remember riding up hwy 41 on a cold Friday evening, or an even colder Saturday morning, On those evening rides, I’d be drunk or drinking on a pint of Jacky D. Any morning I’d be hungover or coming down. But, regardless it felt like heading to a place of origin. Grandad would leave the garage unlocked for me. I never understood why they called it a garage, it would have been better described as a den, or even a man cave. That was where we spent most of our time when I was there. Playing dominoes, watching football, and drinking Miller Lite all day long. As soon as the sun went down the whiskey came out and we carried on playing and talking. Smoking cigarettes inside, only after Grandma went to bed. I didn’t realize then how our souls had been fused together in those moments.

My heart weeps when I consider the effects of mankind on our Mother Earth. Father God will surely not allow us to abuse her forever. How long will we continue along the path of destruction. We care not for our fellow man and set fire to that which nurtures us all. History is perverted and ancient texts are used to promote violence. When will we learn? Hell is not a mystical place. Right here, right now we are engulfed in the flames of destruction. Exploitation cannot sustain, yet we are taught we must capitalize on markets.

I respect all people while as people we respect nothing.

I find hope in the hearts of children. May the wisdom of their innocence not be perverted. Father and Mother guide them in your Spirit. Let them find the truth before all is lost. Pain last through the night, but the Joy that comes… I wish to remain in your morning even through the darkest night. Give me the strength and wisdom to guide my children in the way of the Truth. The Spirit of oneness; being one with fellow man, Mother Earth, and Father God.

Give us mercy and grace, but teach us first love, cherish, and preserve this place! And, by loving this world and others like we love ourselves maybe then we might be saved.

Once again, the mountains call my name. It has been so long since I have embraced their solace. I seek not to conquer nor to gain achievement. But, to reconcile my soul and center my mind. That is not to say I do not embrace my position in society. I greatly enjoy being a father and a husband. Furthermore, I also find joy in my role vocationally. I truly find fulfillment in all of these roles, and I am certain where I am is where I should be. But, I must confess the mountains are where I truly feel at home. Very few understand this completely. Even those that seek recreation in the wilderness are merely practicing an exercise in escapism. Maybe I too am engaging in this practice. An escape from the concrete jungle and relief from civilized beasts. I believe, however, that what I seek is to be engaged, fully and wholly. When in the mountains, especially alone, I must maintain my complete awareness. One missed step could result in death. In regular life I am often looked to as the one who gives direction, the one who has control. What a load of crap! In the mountains I am small and insignificant. I realize now that is what I truly seek. To be a part of the thing without having to lead or be seen; to disappear into the mountains.

Things easily attained are very seldom valued.

What is given to children is often thrown to the side.

Busted knuckles and a sweat soaked brow

often causes the modern man to sit up and look down.

I do not seek to break my back.

A broke down man is nothing but sad.

I’ve spent time in the office, and time in class.

But, my time in the field is what has made me most proud.

Any degree or accreditation earned,

or hoped for;

compares not to the ones I soaked my shirt for.

This is not to discredit or undervalue the pursuit of knowledge.

But, the only lessons valued or the ones worked for.

It always amazes me the effects the weather has on my spirit. Went on a walk through Long Hallow Creek Park. A beautiful stretch of woods in the Catman’s Springs area of Sumak County. I always feel recentered when I spend some time in the natural environment. Probably only a three mile walk around the entire park, so not very testing. But, the hike up the ridge does get the heart rate up. Gloria, Sabrina, and Robert accompanied me today. The conversations that ensue always bring a feeling of togetherness and bonding. I wonder if the feeling is a false hood. Or, just a duality in that the relationship bond is formed and strengthened, but the presumed understanding between the parties never actually occurs.

Church this morning was refreshing as well. I question, if not struggle, with my faith almost daily. I am compelled to a belief that is far from rational or reasonable. The philosophy of Jesus I find sound, and a miraculous resurrection is not necessary to solidify him as the moral standard. Whether or not the complete tenets of Christianity are accurate does not relinquish moral authority from the teachings. This so-called moral authority is the ultimate common ground. We all deserve love and kindness from our neighbors. And, furthermore, we all have a responsibility to show love and kindness to our neighbors regardless of whether or not it is reciprocate.

The love you’ve shown me has let me believe that love can truly be.

You walk with grace day to day a ship glides along the sea.

Strength of steel yet soft as silk, with you I am free.

Free from the chains of loneliness, free from the bars my mind has made.

That train it keeps on rolling.

I wonder where you are.

I said that I was over it,

there’s still aching in my heart.

Whiskey and women are calling.

Late at night.

I can’t sleep,

Good women try to love me, I only push them away.

When I hear that train moan low I’m bound to go astray.

Mr. Daniels may be my only friend.

He’s faithful.

Again,

and again.

While the whiskey keeps me warm, I’m only growing colder.

The highways and the railways run around the bend,

I’m only getting older.

The train it keeps on rolling.

I dream of a place with no insecurities. A time without expectations. Death!?! I cannot!!