28th day 2013

It amazes me sometimes how my mood changes like the weather as they say - with no warning and seemingly with no reason. I moved from giving myself a pep talk this morning to this space where all I want to do is nothing; just fade to black. This deep feeling of melancholy has enveloped me, and I'm no hurry, not the least bit inclined to unseal that envelope of wretchedness. I think I'm bordering on the line of....oh gosh, the word escapes me now, what the fuck is it - why can't I remember. Ah! Bipolar! Ok back to trying to do work for the money I earn.

Faith! Where are you?

I'm having a crisis of faith. I have been struggling with this for some time now - but it seems to have come to a head. My crisis of faith though is not so much to do with a loss of belief in the existence of a supreme being (although it has waned some what) - side note even the use of the word god bothers me now; my crisis in faith centres around prayer, the power, purpose, and ultimately the utility of prayer.

The free dictionary defines prayer as: 1.) a reverent petition made to god, a god or another object of worship; 2.) the act of making a reverent petition to god, a god or another object of worship. Really what it seems to me to be is respectfully begging a being we assume to hold the reins of power over our very existence and our every success or failure. Prayers, it would seem is perpetual plea of either gratitude, or a desperate plea for reprieve from the mounting trials of life. I have the biggest issue with the latter. It seems an exercise in futility to pray to a higher being for a better life, that promotion, new job, husband, wife etc - if it is assumed that this supreme being knows all and sees all, and everything that happens in this life is pre-ordained, a destiny written since the beginning of time. Essentially, where you are in this life is exactly where it has been pre-ordained for you to be; and if relief from the trials of your life is to come, then that to is pre-ordained, so why pray for it, it must happen - and then of course there is the possibility that you were placed here to see misery as a lesson to you and others of the power of this supreme being; or that we may learn some meaningful life lesson through suffering, which would make us either better human beings or more devoted in our devotion to this God. 

Prayer to me seems nothing more than convincing your self that where you are in life is not your fault; things will get better; and in case it doesn't don't worry, your reward for enduring this suffering will be granted onto you in an another life - an eternal one. It's acceptable way to relinquish responsibility for your actions or inactions, success or failure, deeds and misdeeds.  

Maybe my crisis of faith is because I have lost faith in God (at least the biblical notion of God) I feel and have felt abandoned by this manifestation for quite some time (maybe it's because I don't always get what I want from life; then again I should take solace in God never gives you anything before its time - there I go relinquishing responsibility again). I stopped praying long time ago, I stopped believing that things happen because it is the will of god - I'm not convinced that some being hovers above or around us like some puppet master with a distorted sense of humour, tugging at the strings of my life. Perhaps there is a supreme being, perhaps not (maybe there is more than one; or maybe the one has multiple personality disorder). Maybe he/she/it created us and then moved on to the next project - leaving us to our devices; periodically sneaking a peek to see what a beautiful mess we've made of his/her/its creation. I can't speak with any authority on the existence or non-existence of God. Suffice to say I do not think that his/her/its existence has been dis-proven by science, nor has his/her/its existence been proven by religion. And I suppose this is the crux of my crisis of faith, or rather my crisis of prayer. How can I seek assistance, or give thanks to something that I'm not sure exists? Faith! Faith is what is necessary for this to happen convincingly and faith is what I'm running low on. Where has my faith gone?

My space I love to hate

I'm at it again, that place where the deluge of words meeting paper quiets the thoughts lingering in the subconscious of my cerebellum - where the hemorrhaging of disjointed sentences parading as conscious intellect brings some harmony to the cacophony of my mind.

These episodes of rhythm and rhyme purporting as moments of clarity lights the way to a temporary escape; that saving grace from the edge of insanity, just off the cliff of desperation. Ah, I'm back to this place where my every word inspires something out of nothing - where the very air is laced with literary musings; where I convince myself of my poetic genius.

Back to that place, that oh so familiar place, where I revel in negativity fighting it back with words, thoughts, clawing out of the abyss, rising like a phoenix. This place where I loathe to love. A contradiction in terms it is; I find moments of inspiration ostensibly in my dark hours - find profound moments, loving moments, vile wicked venomous moments. A veritable hodge-podge of ideas and emotions.

Moments of joy reflecting on the sensible drivel flowing from my head onto the page. I have a real love hate relationship with this space. Alas, it is a fleeting space - so while in it, I will revel ; make a lovely mess of the mixed moods that I experience. When it is gone I will bid it adieu, till next time. My space I love to hate.

Only, In my dream

I saw you watch me as I slept
You dreamt wide awake of us
In a different time and place, in a life not ours
I felt your lips on my cheek, as you whispered
I love you
In my dream, your lips felt warm, and those words meant everything
I saw the way you spoke with your eyes
Words you won't say out loud
In my dream, you confessed your darkest secret, your deepest fear
As I slept you held me tight, and said, don't leave me
In my dream you said, I'll never leave you, never stop loving you
I smiled, warmed by the thought of undying love
In my dream, we were blissfully unaware of reality, happy in fantasy
In my dream, I awoke to you, asleep, smiling, dreaming, happy dreams

I Write

When the tears won't come, I cry words
When words won't come, I hemorrhage sentences
I escape through this ink flowing on paper
Confide my darkest thoughts in the open
Tell my fears and secrets to the canvas of my mind
Seek counsel in these lines, recompense with the hush of the voices in my head
These pages, this ink ingrained in my soul
A reprieve from the journey of my life
When the tears won't come, and the words aren't enough
I'm thankful, to god, that I, can write

Absurdity of Honesty

Lie to me if you care
Tell me the half truths I need to hear
Say you'll never leave me as you walk away
Tell me you'll change for me, as you stay the same
Say you believe in honesty, as you pile on the lies
Tell me that you miss me, while you make no time
Say you'll always be there, you know you're too damn busy
Tell me that you love me, but you really really like me
Say this will last forever, when forever ends today
Go ahead, lie to me if you care
Lies are all I really, really want to hear.

The Beholden

In the eye of the beholder, flawed perfection is perfectly flawed
The tainted panes of the soul's window obscures the view
Distorts reality, till fiction seems real, and the non-existent exist
Shades of grey become black, black becomes white, superficial has substance

Transient adoration of ephemeral manifestations of flesh
Misguided adulation for the cosmetic, discarding the visceral
Content with the shallow exterior put forth on parade

To the beholder words become platitudes, cherished by the unenlightened beholden
Words with the substance of fall leaves, whisked away in the wind, here then gone
Carrying the weight of an anvil, grounded in false reality, held in high regard

Be weary of the beholder, their tongues hold secrets
Their minds eye speaks the truth of the windows of their souls
Souls as blackened as the night sky on a moonless, starless night
Beauty, fool, is in the eye of the beholder