My heart sometimes still breaks for no reason at all. Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like not to hope for anything at all, just that on the day of final judgment, that I fail every test and am eradicated in the lake of fire by the hand of God. True, there are also times when I feel that life is just so good, and how undeserving of such true joy that I have, the feeling of love for all things and all people... but perhaps neither feeling is really me. I have always thought that the aberrant thoughts of madmen like me were also thought by the random passerby on the street, just that for him, it is a fleeting fancy, while I will dwell on it to sick dimensions. I must understand that perhaps I will never be completely well; this is what I have done to myself. I am to blame, unlike many others, who did nothing to perturb their mental state; I went and entirely brought the heavens crashing down on me by my own hand.
But I must admit, I am much, much better than what I have been in the past. For I was far down the pit, and the whole world was my enemy at times. There was a day that I seemed to awake, and I looked around me, surrounded suddenly only by friends, all my enemies merely illusions that slipped so easily from my sight and mind. It really can be like that: that all the bad things were merely shadows, and all the good things, the really good things: these were always real, after all. No, you do not become master of the universe, but you realize that you never truly wanted that, to begin with. Like most of everyone, we do not know in our heart of hearts what our genuine desires are. All we can do, any of us, mad or sane, is hope for the best. Even when my heart breaks for no reason at all, I can find reason in it. I write a poem, I wonder at the world. We have not much time in the world, not really. We must live, whatever that means.
deb
10:24pm wednesday, 6th september
Indeed . . . We live in whatever meaning we give it.
deb