Not a damn thing in this life has ever been easy. It wasn't ever supposed to be is the best conclusion I can surmise. Why? is a question I don't bother to ask anymore. I'll be greeted with silence.
I grew up with a very pronounced speech impediment that finally abated through therapy when I was about 16 years old. I still have the faded ghosts, decayed remnants and decrepit artifacts of my stutter. Hold me in conversation long enough and I'll start t-t-t-t-t-ticking the f-f-f-f-first letters of my wwww-wwww-wwwww....words at the beginning of sentences. Well, you may or may not notice, but I will.
My stuttering has been reduced to an infinitesimal fraction of its former self.
I've since spent many years as a stage actor and more recently beginning to feel my oats as a spoken word artist. I am at home and happy to be onstage in front of several hundred people. My voice is clear and strong. It doesn't take any shit or prisoners. I can whisper a fussy baby to sleep, cuss like a drunken fucking sailor in a whore house and provoke mountains to movement with prayer.
I've scared the fresh hell out of the wicked and calmed souls of the wretched with my words. Sometimes committing vice versa much to my error and subsequent self imposed brow beatings. But this is how I am learning to use this blessing and curse of this voice of mine. It is my glory and my wound.
I stuttered and stammered as soon as I could speak. Some of my elders thought I was mentally retarded and immediately wrote me off as pathetic and damaged. Others thought I wwwwas sssstuttering on purpose to get attention.
My parents yelled at me 'Stop stuttering! It sounds like hell!'
I got bullied and beaten up a lot. Somewhere around age 13, I had had e-double-ee-triple-eee-fucking-enough. I started to punch the shit out of any potential bully I saw. I was a damn good little scrapper, beating the crapola out of two and three punks simultaneously. I kicked balls, gouged eyes, threw shit at people's heads and choked the snot out of any motherfucker who made fun of my sad little retarded ass sssssstuttering voice.
Also realizing at a very young age about my bisexuality on top of the speech impediment that thus presented a great immediate need to learn the manly art of fisticuffs to defend myself from the small minded and overzealous. I studied and practiced Tae Kwon Do and Judo like a ravenous vulture/scared mouse/viper engorged with bile.
It came along one day, while in the post lunch recreation area of my junior high school (where most of the fights happened) I was confronted by an assemblage of about 14 frustrated fellow youths united for the sole purpose of kicking the shit out of my retarded, sputtering, half way queer, indignant and incomprehensible ass.
For the next 20 or so minutes, I was beaten, punched, kicked, slammed, slapped, shoved, knocked to the ground and spat upon. At a couple of points, a kid or two I had never had any contact with joined into the fray. It was, after all, what the cool kids were doing at the moment. All the while a vice principal observed the entire scene from beginning to end. I kept calling for him to help me. The prick just stood there and stared.
The school bell rang and the gang dispersed. Somehow, I got up and walked away. I have been told that I have many guardian angels and protecting spirits that surround me. I count this instance as one of many situations peppered throughout my life that I believe confirms this.
In the days that followed, I tried to tell my parents what had happened. Their responses were words to the effect of 'Oh well, I guess you did something to make them mad' and 'why didn't you punch them in the goddamn mouth?' At that point, the solution seemed obvious.
Just stop talking.
For the next couple of years, unless I was in the company of trusted friends or it was absolutely necessary, that is exactly what I did. Any time I detoured off the foot path of silence, I was immediately sssssssorry.
Silenced mouth
clenched tongue
I forgot how to laugh
how to cry
That summer
I tried to hang myself
a thousand times
My lover
came to disdain me
Our taboo
had become
rancid to him
That summer
I sweltered
no chance
of innocence
regained
I tried
pills
rope and knives
not sharp
or swift enough
to tear this life
free
to the abyss
where I could
in silence
drown
I wrote
suicide notes
knowing
they would
never
be found
Then came
the drugs
and momentary peace
masturbation ending
in failed assassination
cries for release
The attic seemed
a good cemetery
to hide my anxious corpse
where I could die
safe and astounded
at the glorious failure
of my wasted life
Praying never
to return
to this
cruel
earth
again
Fuck you
eat shit
and die
all of you
my
invisible
friends.
I pray that no one else ever feels like I did while I was growing up, but I know a lot of kids, for their own reasons do. They need to know that they are not alone. I swear to God, the human spirit is more resilient than any of us can ever believe until we've been through hell and back. There will come a day of choice between enlightenment and bitterness. In the name of all that is holy, I pray that ye choose thee well. Too many tender souls are too young to realize this. In the name of all that is love, please share this before it is too late.
Please.
With all my love as always and forever,
Max
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