There are moments when I let myself forget about everything. Become not mindful of the world. Other times, I am so very tired. I feel almost as if I were Atlas, supporting the weight of the whole world, the air itself pressing down upon me — but I know it is only my world, and that given some other light, they would prove of illusory gravity. In moments of clarity, I think, it has not been a dream, after all, that I have lived all these wayward years — though some were less wayward than others. But the years, too, press down upon me, that I have experienced so much, so much that never happened, and I must make sense of that which by nature will not ever yield to any logic at all. I know, on the other of the hands, that for everything that has happened, that I have been given great gifts, and that where so much has been given, much therefore is expected in return. That, perhaps, is the weightiest of all, because that is not some figment that I may disregard, a genuine precious stone whose mass is directly proportional to how much it is worth.
But still, there are, for a few seconds at a time, maybe longer at rare instances, times when all the weight of a thousand worlds lifts from my back and shoulders, when my head itself is floating on a cloud. And it is not really a forgetting, for some of the thoughts drift through my consciousness, even then, of responsibilities, of my past, of my future: but somehow, it is as if their substance is transformed from solid to gas, from earth to air, from matter to space. Perhaps the comprehension, at these times, is the most correct: these are the things I have truly desired that weigh on me greatest, and this process by which such gravities influence my actions is what is meant to be — and I would have it no other way, if ever I would be in a right mind to decide such things. And then those moments pass, and I am back into the realm of earth and density, forgetting my forgetting... except to remind myself to hope: that I am meant for something in this world, which I would give up everything for, and which that is not asked of me in achieving it.
Webster
1:38am tuesday, 18th october
I looked for you those days when I could not find your web site. I worried that something had happened to you and was relieved to find out that the problem was only with the site. So good to have you back.
I think that I try to compensate for my life by throwing myself into my work. I took a professional risk which did not work out and now I feel the weight of the disappointment that I was not successful. This feeling of course makes me question if I were simply deluding myself at my chances for success. I am always questioning my perceptions and sense of reality.
The weight of this feeling too will disolve into the air and lighten. Now it feels so heavy.
Webster