the mind like a catapult

two or maybe three 
sleepless nights 
in a row

whiskey on an empty 
stomach 

the tremors 
the cold sweats 
the random sensations in the 
body or absence of them 

and finally the 
great surrender 

When I just sit or lie 
down and let everything 
be 

resist nothing 

It's in those moments that I
finally understand their 
scolding 
All the voices who 
blamed me for being
'absent' 

How right they were

I was indeed absent

Missing from 
my own existence 

It's the mind that kept me 
away all this time 

Not so much the mind itself
as the wrong ways it 
was being used 

A kind of catapult 

That's what I designed it to be

Something that would 
throw me away from
the present moment and the 
present place 

either in the past 
or the future 
or some other reality entirely 

but never the present 
moment 
never the present place 

You can stay away from
the now 
for a while 
but 
it's only an illusion 

All that exists, the only 
existence that can be
proven 
is right now 

And what am I doing right now?

I am