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| december 2004 |
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| Ending, Beginning | 11:29am thursday, 30th december |
Shall I believe them when they say an ending is also a beginning? Perhaps I should not believe in endings at all, merely the beginnings, for I am a believer in life eternal, of the death that does not die. And I do not know if dreams ever do end, even when they have faded, and nothing but a ghost remains of their touch — I find a healthy breath can resuscitate one that seemed all but gone.... should I perhaps merely say, goodbye, my year, now almost a year old, ready to turn over from the present to the past, joining so many others? But these years never truly go, not while we yet remember, and we were there for it all. Merrily merrily merrily merrily, life is but a dream: all these years, we will wake from them some time, and then we will see that time does not pass as easily as we thought, and perhaps that dreams are not so insubstantial, after all.
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| Two Christmas Quotes | 3:05pm friday, 24th december |
They were all looking for a king
To slay their foes, and lift them high;
Thou cam'st, a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.
 – George Macdonald
I saw a stable, low and very bare,
A little child in a manger.
The oxen knew Him, had Him in their care,
To men He was a stranger,
The safety of the world was lying there,
And the world's danger.
– Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
Merry Christmas!
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| Much | 11:31am tuesday, 21st december |
I always feel like I’m behind. That there is just so much catching up I have to do, that I will never be able to be where I’m supposed to be. It comes, probably, from having spent my twenties mostly in a psychotic quasicatatonia, or in a mental institution, or high. I only really got going when I was thirty, and from then on, it’s been rush rush rush. “I dream of the person I might have been,” says a song by Jefferey Gaines (“Hero in Me”). Indeed, the person I could have grown up into, had I made the right choices in life. But this is me, this is how I turned out — and at least I have joined the race. (Human race?) I am now full of ideas and have only two hands to make anything of them, full of inspiration and only twenty-four hours in the day to achieve anything. I do spend some hours relaxing, but often these are riddled with a sort of guilt. Perhaps I want too much. But I feel much was given me, and so, much is expected.
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| Wings | 12:50pm tuesday, 14th december |
There is such knowledge
that I think comes
when one looks within,
and casts away
all preconceived theoreticals,
desires truly to
see beyond the veils of dust
that hide the eyes
from that which is fearfully
and wonderfully made:
our true selves, when for once
we can be free to unfold
the wings within our spirits,
and fly to the secret of light.
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| Mania | 12:03pm wednesday, 8th december |
What’s the deal with this sanity thing? Maybe I shouldn’t have cut back on my meds, but I was really getting sick of the weight gain (Zyprexa’s prime side effect). So, I have moments of not quite normalcy, though the greatest part of it may not be doing things abnormally, but reacting too severely to normal things that happen. And today, I was having a great time programming away at my 9 to 5 (actually, about 9:30 to 7:30), and then I thought, is this me being happy, or is this merely mania? I mean, I have gone through depressives, where my seratonin levels are too low, so is this the flipside? My brain, pumping my chemical systems with too much of the joy juice? Can’t I just be freaking happy without thinking that the universe has an ulterior motive somewhere? ... Okay, that about does it for my rant, I guess.
Yes, if you didn’t know already, I was once diagnosed with manic depression (now referred to as bipolar disorder). Depressive moods can be hell. Like withdrawing from a drug you didn’t know you were on, if you can relate to that. Or, if not, I can say that it’s like something drastically wrong somewhere in your life, but you just can’t pin down what it is — because everything is, in fact, just fine. I’ve ridden those through with some white knuckles. Mania, on the other hand, is rarer for me, and sometimes, I just don’t notice them. Who questions being happy? Usually not the person that’s feeling it. Today, though, it seemed a little excessive, my glee, to me. Hm. Who knows? Maybe it is just me being happy, and me questioning it just because I question everything. That, I could live with, no problem at all.
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