oh no (not again), I'm jaded and faded and blue... cynical too... I don't know what to do... I want to boo hoo but I haven't got a clue if I'll ever make it through to the way out of the blue...

ever again...

feel my heart and you will know who I am, but if you do not know yourself (or hide from yourself), then you will fool yourself with me as well as you fool yourself with you... and blame me for the walls you put up that push me away...

a fool's mission, perhaps...

I hear myself saying again and again, if you do not want to face yourself, naked and unabashed, then please do not try to face me and again and again someone will try, believing that because I care and offer unconditional love and that appears beautiful in their eyes that I will go along with their self-denial and ignore their self-abuses... and then I am the heavy for not pretending, for seeing and acknowledging the obvious... and I long for the one who dares to face themselves and wants to share the truth, the whole truth, and if necessary change what is going wrong inside and outside and not pretend that physical sharing can be satisfactory until the changes are well underway for it is a state of mind and being that is beauty and attractive and compatible... I wonder if this means anything to you... and what it means to you... how do you construe or misconstrue... so many will not, but a few do...

understand...

"*Know* that a mind divided divides the man. The will and the hand must be as one. In *knowing* the self, one becomes strong. *Know* that if you *know* a course of action to be true in your heart, do not betray it because the path leads to hardship. *Know* that without suffering, the Rising would have never been, and the People would never have come to *know* themselves. *Know* that there is nothing in all the Worlds that can stand against unity. When all *know* a single purpose, when all hands are guided by one will, and all act with the same intent, the Planes themselves may be moved.

A divided mind is one that does not *know* itself. When it is divided, it cleaves the body in two. When one has a single purpose, the body is strengthened. In *knowing* the self, grow strong."

~ from the teachings of Zerthimon.

the words above may not hold the same meaning for any of you that it holds for me, but they are profound and meaningful to me... perhaps because I have been divided for too long, or at least allowing self-knowledge to be buried beneath consciousness deep enough so that at least on the surface I appear, even to myself, especially to myself, to be lost and unfocused...

and Discordia's words, are profound and meaningful to me... they speak to a part of me dragged down into deepest despair and always reaching up to try to bring the rest of me down to not care anymore, to give up hope, to just give up...

every year the concept of giving up seems more reasonable...

that is the curse of age in this life, that death comes naturally regardless of what we do and each year lived is one less year, one less chance (a million less chances) to fulfill dreams and find whatever it is outside of self that matter most and will complete the illusion of a perfect life...

from the other side (the side on which I'd like to believe my core resides), each moment holds an infinite array of opportunities to fulfill the dreams and find whatever it is outside of myself that matters most and completes the illusion of perfection...

the glass is half full and half empty, always...

at present I may be mostly dead, though I do not write from that perspective often... just thinking about it and imagining writing from it brings tears to my eyes because it is sad and yet, the life that produces words, the feeling that there is life even in the darkest deepest most painful sorrows and apathetic despairs gives me hope and the fact that there is hope produces happy tears...

most of my tears, if not all, I believe, are happy tears... I see little reason, if any, for sad tears... when I feel sadness I am inspired to find ways to fix it, to do something that will improve the mood and cure the sadness (as if sadness is a disease?... not quite, but...) and bring about the hope that the sadness is not permanent and the tears of happiness that come when a light is felt, the light of hope that happiness is still possible...

and I am now sufficiently distracted by a movie that my roommate left on the TV when he left the room to wonder what it is I might write about now... intriguing words... I want to watch...

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

and then I turn off the TV after remembering brief moments of Serendipity Only You and others... believing in love is not always easy to experience alone because I do, I so do...

of course I am not an emotional puddle...

alas...

and daring to believe that someone understands enough to relate to, if not experience the life I've known in this life, I continue to reach out at random intervals when the muses call out loud enough to get my attention... there are some out there, I believe, who may understand the denial without deying it, that is, who may succumb to the self-abuses without pretending it's ok... loving self means loving self, not merely accepting self... accepting self is great, but loving self is wonderful...

humans do love their pretenses, their facades, their fashions and glories, their bed time stories... and I wonder if I've been anything other than a fool for living a life asking the question with every breath... will anyone dare be completely honest and open with themselves and begin there to share?... anything less is less and in the end, meaningless... have I given up expecting anyone to understand that?... no less do it?...

and I see you and cry for I see me too clearly taking the same unwanted path and pray, did I put away the bottle just to continue riding the roller coaster of food, years of running races with myself to feel the euphoria of fitness followed by years of indulging lazy apathy and taste buds, again and again... always in search of stability in others who were supposed to give me unconditional love and security, only to watch them fall apart as I reached out for their hands... I can blame them, I can blame myself, and waste more time... would you see all this reflected in my eyes or would I see all this reflected in yours... now, as one by one my hairs turn gray and brittle, I struggle against the inevitibility of time and wonder if one moment will be enough anymore... it one moment will come... there's always hope, I hear myself tell myself and... is wanting to believe enough... I don't even write it as I once did, could I still live it... given the opportunity... beyond the literary dreams?...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)