I am thrown about,
a rag in the wind,
no position of the tide
to call his home, no
angle of the sun to call
his viewpoint: where did I
discover how little
I am, and where do I go
to forget? The yawning
cosmos, I discovered
you far after you
discovered me, but
the difference was that
I was the one that cared.
Or perhaps I miss
the whole point,
the entire meaning
altogether, that what I
need do is to be
blind to what I am,
only to see the other’s
need? Such a saintly way,
however, I find
I do not comprehend,
how someone else’s blood
could look redder
than mine, someone else’s
dreams more worthy,
someone else’s life
more important.
Maybe I should just
fake it, and when I
lay down my life
because I had nothing
better to do with my days,
they will think how
utterly courageous:
he died for love, he died
for the very honor of it.
No one has to know, at all.
strawberry
2:38am friday, 7th january
No. No. Suicide is NOT allowed. Stand, I read this recently and thought of you. "As I noted in 'The Road Less Traveled', it is often the most spiritually healthy and advanced among us who are called on to suffer in ways more agonizing than anything experienced by the more ordinary. Great leaders, when wise and well, are likely to endure degrees of anguish unknown to the common man. Conversely, it is the unwillingness to suffer emotional pain that usually lies at the very root of emotional illness. Those who fully experience depression, doubt, confusion, and despair may be infinitely more healthy than those who are generally certain, complacent, and self-satisfied. The denial of suffering is, in fact, a better definition of illness than its acceptance." - M.Scott Peck in "People of the Lie"
Sometimes, because of my schizophrenic illness I see too much. I see the occational dark or selfish motivations in people I love or I see blinding goodness in their crass imperfections. I suspect that my medication turns parts of my mind off, otherwise I would be consumed in the fire of infinite perception. My refuge is in things that are concrete such as smearing colored pigment on paper. I am not an artist because I have talent. I am an artist because the act of narrowing my vision down to a 10" x 8" piece of canvass for one month saves my sanity. You seem to be looking for something Stand and you have to keep looking. And Stand, you are not alone. I am reading your blog.
Stand
2:50am friday, 7th january
Not to worry. Purely a theoretical exercise.
kittie
6:17am sunday, 9th january
I really liked this entry. I can't quite explain why, it just seemed to touch me.
strawberry
Stand