Can barely type. Feel like my mind is lost. However my urges for ethical equivocacy have not been lost. A burning need to explain rationally the death march echoing in the breeze, the constant death to life spurted in the air by everyone, this yearning silently towards an end so terrible disturbs me, so subtle, we know it not until we lie in bed, even then it is nameless but is real. How can one burn like a cigarette? Why is my skin sweat encrusted? Why do i care? Who is me? One need not do acid to feel this way, merely quit the meds you were prescribed. All of the sudden God breaks in and shatters your joy, with his bare naked reality he crushed my breath and smothered me in a hot mess of John the Baptist smelling bullshit . And all of the self assured nonsense panderers wandering about with science medals and degrees provided by the least sense makers tell me how to run my shit as i run my shit minus them quite well, and they’d provide me the rules in which to be myself and id deny them, id die to be myself, and it seems i might. My temperature 101 wondering how all the authors i liked did this, how they died after the things they did, while still living. Wondering how men followed the lead of other men, as i watch men do just as i think they wouldn’t, burning pyres of joy embracing deviltry and ignorance.
But God deliver me, if you can, from my own grasp, free me.
As it is, i hear you merely as an echo in the wind……. a bump in the air conditioning a sigh from the lips of a dog.
I act as if i weren’t scared, but fear runs up and down my spine as it always will, because i stand in awe and life is incredible and terrible. I witness death vicariously, though I’ve palled my bear, troubled myself with the dirt burrowing of my fellow mans remains. Even yet i wonder if more was possible, if i merely missed their breath soul wisps heading Godwards by a mere inch or through lack of faith was blinded.
Ive witnessed bloodless bloodbaths. Been privy to people killing themselves but acting as if it were a lease on life they’d renewed. Seen such Nazi realities as would set back the most inculcated veteran. Been accused of the vastity of horsepiss, implied by the license granted the new and fresh monger of whats considered real.
Id have me write more politely.
Id have me write like Charles Lamb and or De Quincey but they’d hate me for such words , undisguisedly they’d bear a brunt of hatred towards me as heavy as a Huns shoulder.
And id hate me for mimicking ape like the wordy-lovey ness of men Im alien to, the system i grew up with so alien to life, so helpful in creating rebellions numerous flooding the backwater with anger expressed incorrectly.
I often wonder how we/I came to be and why.
If to no purpose then so be it, but if to a purpose then which?
Why burn us like candles, why set our own wicks aflame to no avail? Scream into a darkness that muffles.
And i read the greats, who are no more great than you and I, and I feel no closer to the verge of the crest of what they speak of. What guidance? What urge can take us to such place? I graze it like a bullet and fall dejectedly off the course.
Its been four days now of iced freeze and an entrapped state of me and my two sons in the same place. Ive not been able to send them to their designated indoctrination villa for the day, they haven’t been able to silently applaud a flag and the deaths of god knows how many for what reason, for 4 days. Ive read a few books and been surprised by the malleable evil of the world even so that I’m not a fool and no better than to have harbored beliefs in a world with no safe harbor for any belief and an ever-changing tide of nonsense fluctuating from in and out of every shore of our minds beach. Im also happy but it is of no note and beggars no description, and i can’t belittle it with metaphor, it is like a burning brightness that no grey can enter , a charged statement said quietly in a dark room, physical contact, convivial feeling: almost as if God whispered to you.
All sit and await a heaven ignoring that which floats at our very heels.