Everything is so
Fucking delicate…
Everything in life
Just hangs on by a thread…
Spiderweb gossamer…
It may be stronger than steel
In tensile strength,
But there’s really
Not much to it…
The skin of our teeth…
When my mind goes to
Darker places,
Sometimes
The only way to control it
Is to force myself
To think in Clichés…
The best laid plans of mice and men…
For example…
Memories from college literature classes,
“The center can not hold,
Things fall apart…”
Entropy…
Whiskey or rum
Used to help me loosen up
To write down
A few pearls
When i was in college…
Jim Beam, and marijuana, and L.S.D.
Wrote a whole novel
In about two weeks
Back in college…
Internal emotional turmoil
Easily wrote the rest…
Today,
It’s just a 4-Loko…
Premium Malt Beverage…
Who knows what that will do…
Most of the great writers
Were wasted most of the time…
A good portion
Were outright addicts…
When you see too much
Every time you look out at the world,
You sometimes need
To self-medicate…
Life is fragile
And it is painful…
Delicate
And combustible…
Sometimes explosive…
My curse
Is that I tend to have a slow,
Quiet burn…
I can hold grudges
For lifetimes…
I’m vengeful,
When I’m not mindful…
And I’m not always mindful…
Every now and then
Mr. Spock
Falls prey
To his human emotions…
Irrational thoughts…
I strive to be logical and rational,
But my emotions
Are a force of nature
That I must
Constantly subdue…
I strive to be rational,
But who I really am,
At the very center,
Is not rational…
It is a small lemur-like primate
Driven by emotional responses
To the random cruelty
Of daily living…
There is no loving God
Watching over your every move…
Protecting you…
I’ll allow myself to believe in
The power of human intention,
And the protection of ancestors
Whose spirit energy
Never dies…
But God?
There is no God.
The Universe,
Through quantum physics-type theory,
I can entertain the the thought
That it has an awareness of itself…
That we are all
Just tiny parts of one gigantic mind…
My emotions run hot like the Yahweh
In the Old Testament...
As above, so below…
But I don’t think this “thing”
Is any more aware
Of it’s inner workings
Than we are
Conscious
Of our own inner workings…
I can entertain the thought
Of destiny, karma, an afterlife,
Even some grand design,
Without having to accept
The idea of some “loving God”
Who reigns down floods and hellfire
On his children…
Who kills innocents by the millions…
And tortures his creation since,
As The Book of Job will inform you,
God, the omnipotent and omniscient,
Knower and Creator of all things,
Causes all of the good
And all of the evil…
It’s all a part of the divine plan…
And you’re supposed to accept it…
No matter how often he fucks with you…
Taking your health…
Killing your children…
Pressing you down and down
And down and down…
And just like in Army Basic Training,
You’re supposed to say,
“Please, Sir. May I have some more.”
Fuck that.
To quote Conan, the Barbarian:
“Crom, I have never prayed to you before. I have no tongue for it. No one, not even you, will remember if we were good men or bad. Why we fought, or why we died. All that matters is that two stood against many. That's what's important! Valor pleases you, Crom... so grant me one request. Grant me revenge! And if you do not listen, then to HELL with you!”
That’s pretty much my relationship with God,
At this point.
I believe in the power of human intention.
Especially multiple minds focusing on one outcome…
I believe that can change the physical world
Through non-physical means…
And I delve deep into superficial philosophy,
When I’m trying to avoid thinking
About what is really on my mind…
Distractions…
Pocket-Sand…
Every single moment of my life
Is made of playing cards and matchsticks…
Here comes some repetition of form…
Delicate and combustible…
Just the smallest whisper of a breeze
And the seams can un-seam…
One spark
Can make things explode…
Just one tiny moment
Where things don’t feel just right
Can try to un-make
A lifetime of progress…
{progress?}
I don’t want to question everything,
There are some things I want to
Confidently and comfortably accept,
But at this point in my life
I know
That nothing is guaranteed…
More clichés,
There is light at the center of everything dark,
And there is something dark
At the center of everything light…
Nothing in this life is pure…
Shadows always creep into every scenario…
It offers perspective…
Like the fact that
Right now
I realize I would probably need
Two 4-Lokos
To become completely honest…
Thank God, I only bought one…
(And you already know how I feel about God…)
I can go more humorous,
Or I could get darker…
I know how dark my thoughts can get…
I can’t afford to let them go there…
Darth Vader is a cute analogue
To how my mind can twist…
Fortunately for others,
I stuff the emotions down so deep
That I wind up in an ICU
In a medically induced coma…
Good Times!!!
Probably the most interesting month of my life,
Thus far…
So…
Not a total loss…
Physical and emotional turmoil
Builds character,
Right?
I’ve got all the character I need…
Please, stop…
Nothing is guaranteed,
Nothing really has any roots,
Even mountains can crumble to a plain
In the space of a day…
So why hope for more?
What’s the actual point?
The more you learn, the harder it gets…
Just like a video game…
But this one never seems to let you win
In the end…
Heartbreak after heartbreak…
Setback after setback…
Constant reinforcement
That you were not meant to win…
So fuck that mindset…
I can make my own destiny…
Fuck all your Gods…
God is just like all of us,
Confused and angry,
And praying to some imaginary deity
For salvation…
“As above, so below…”
So, cosmic bullshit
Goes top to bottom
And bottom to top…
And I often try to make the pain
Become universally applicable
When I am attempting to
Make my life
Seem “normal”...
Just the way the cookie crumbles…
Still not drunk enough to say what’s on my mind though, right?
So many useless secrets…
Loose lips sink ships…
I can only pantomime my frustration…
Charades…
Pictionary...
And, bad pun, Trivial Pursuit…
If it’s meant to be, it’ll be…
Baby, just let it be…
But that’s not necessarily my style…
I push the river all the time…
Occasionally, I have altered the course
Of the river…
Enough times
To make me over-confident
That I can change the course again…
I’m not that strong…
I am very delicate…
And sometimes combustible…
Built on playing cards
And matchsticks…
Held together with loctite
And duct tape…
Brittle and flammable...But, God Damn,
I’m good at avoiding what I really want to say...
x
No comments:
Post a Comment