Whale Dreams (or To the Surface)

" The quest is to be liberated from the negative, which is really our own will to nothingness. And, once having said yes to the instant, the affirmation is contagious. It bursts into a chain of affirmations that knows no limit. To say yes to one instant, is to say yes to all of existence."
--Waking Life

I awoke and was pissed, another day of monotony. Another day of coffee binges, and dumbass drivers. Of costly car repairs, and feelings of going nowhere. I‘d been dreaming so vividly through the night. I was swimming with my sister in the ocean. Suddenly all around us were these beautiful whales. It felt so real, and I loved it when they snuck up and surfaced inches from me. I could reach out and touch their blubbery skin. Every once in a while they’d playfully spray water up in the air like kids with a water hose will do in the summer. As always though, reality broke in and fucked it up. I sighed a deep existential sigh, and vigorously rubbed my eyes to get the crust out of the corners. They always say life is but a dream, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Life is only memories of dreams. Life is the interruption of a dream. I felt as if I could just lay there forever, that it didn’t really matter if I got up and did it all over again. I looked up the whale as a dream symbol, and it was commonly associated with deep emotions surfacing, and getting more in touch with one’s intuition. Interesting, and incredibly appropriate.

I had to get up, I told myself. I was being childish. Life isn’t that bad.

But she left you, she betrayed you, I retorted. The two people you were closest to, betrayed you together. She threw you out after taking everything, after you had given up everything to make her happy. Even after forgiving her for fucking your best “friend.” She took your heart and pureed it, then handed you the blender and took off, in search of another conquest. You were left with a mushy heart smoothie. Left to find a way to put it back together. For weeks afterwards you didn’t really have an appetite, eating only because you knew your body needed it. You couldn’t sleep well.

The only thing that saved you for a while, that gave you hope was church, was God. But after awhile you became disillusioned, and realized it was a joke. These people faithfully attended each week, thinking they were scoring some heavenly brownie points. They’d walk in the doors smiling, saying “God is good, all the time,” or “Bless you, brother.” They believed what they wanted to believe, what made them feel good. They hated gay people, then told people not to hate. They judged, then said “Don’t judge.” You got so tired of saying you believed, trying to convince yourself more than anyone. The feeling of belonging and purpose it gave at first eventually wore off, and you realized you were just trying to cover the pain, but the pain remained.

That one day, that moment is what haunted you, when she said with such anger, “I don’t love you anymore.” What a terrible feeling it is to give yourself completely to one person, thinking they are doing the same, only to find out they never meant a word. They were simply biding her time, hedging her bets. You were a bridge from the last guy to the next guy. Used like a second-hand bike, a temporary fill-in, until they could get a better one. Yes you may have been a little overbearing at times, and in your naivety often got jealous. But this was your first real relationship, didn’t she understand that?

You gave her the power to validate your existence, and she denied it. Now you’re finally beginning to heal, to see the folly of your ways. You got a taste of her body and were insatiably hooked. You deceived yourself into thinking you couldn’t live without her, so when you were forced to, you just stopped living as much as you could. You stopped pursuing anything but strict survival. “What was the use?” you asked yourself.

Sometimes, what you thought was the worst thing possible, turns out to be the best. I am who I am now because I have had my heart broken, and put it back together. I am grateful to her in a way. I also learned things about myself, that I was far too needy. I am taking control of my life again. I am developing my own individuality. I am working toward the point where I don’t need someone, so that I can choose to be with someone, rather than them becoming an addiction. An extension of my ego that exists to boost my self-esteem. I am who I am, and I won’t hide behind the scenes anymore. Yeah, the world isn’t fair all the time. Sometimes, the nice guys get taken for a ride. Sometimes justice doesn’t prevail, and sometimes your hopes are dashed. But giving up isn’t the answer. It’s going on, it’s taking the cards you’re dealt and playing them. I’m ready to play the next hand.

I groggily flop my feet off the side of the bed. When my feet hit the floor, and I stand up, I notice suddenly my body feels considerably lighter. The oppressive feeling I had every day prior wasn’t there. I felt free to love again. The mushy heart smoothie had finally hardened into a solid organ again. For so long I told myself I wouldn't be hurt again, but strange as it may sound love is worth being hurt. Worth risking being hurt, because it's the only way to truly find it.

Happy V-Day all you couples.

***all you readers out there(all four of you :) ) who may be thinking, man this guys so cynical and whiny , I just wanna say I know. This post was my attempt to release that cynicism and negativity. I've realized that it's so oppressive and just kills all joy you may have, not to mention being childish. Bear with me and please don't stop reading. Look forward to more positive posts, or at least less negative ones. :)


  1. I don't know if I would trade the lessons I've learned from terrible things that have happened. Not that I want the experience, but sometimes it is the only way to teach us. I've woken up before and wished I could have stayed in my dream. It would be easier.

  2. yo,

    thought i'd word up my intro today.

    heard your words, brought back memories, of spiralling out of the world, into words or other intoxicants. When it happened bad last time. i brought a bike and rode across a contient, quit everthing and rode away. Over the months of peddling i thought alot and felt alot. and slowly i realised that she slept with a good friend because we weren't right together. if she'd loved me that wouldn't have happened. so i asked why? saw some of my faults in her eyes, maybe they weren't faults in my eyes, but everyone is different. basically long story story short, kept asking why, until i understood the problems on both sides, then, sounds holeywood, but forgave, bashed out a beer fuelled e-mail, saying so what we had fun, it was good but no more. felt instantly better (well a little better). we don't speak still, but at least i understand why, and the answers didn't come from her. As for your 'best' friend. he sounds like a dick. no excuses there.


  3. I commented over at The Constant Hum, but I want to comment here too. Because I love this post! I love the realness of it. I love the journey.



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