March '06.

DATE:  'Tis still March.

TIME:   'Tis rather late.

MOOD:  'Tis deep.

July '06

DATE: Does it matter?

TIME: Late.

MOOD: Mindful.

Ask me why? Ask me why! Ask and I wont have an answer. Certainly no answer that can be considered straight-forward, as any dialogue soon turns to monologue and I'll be here for hours. What was my reason, if there was any reason at all? Ask me and I'll say that I cant remember. To wake up clear headed, without the fog and the bleary eyed curiousness of what transpired hours before I passed out. Not a problem perhaps, however, this act, this sobriety, has brought with it untold numbers of daemons.

It appears then that I am some sort of ridiculous masochist!

Revelling in the punishment I bring upon myself. Revelling? Perhaps only a modicum. Somewhat regretful, yes, to a certain extent. This mental punishment I'm putting myself through will be my un-doing. Or am I wishing, willing it. This new found sobriety is doing nothing but punishing me. Everything is clearer now, but thats not entirely a good thing, the issues have now been multiplied and become more obvious.

Damn it! I always end up back here, sat at this chair, facing that wall, window to my right, unable to move but for the merest muscle reflex that keeps my left hand writing this shit and the wheels of the past turning in my head, perpetual motion but never allowed to move forward, simply turning in circles and it just weighs heavier on my mind. HEHEHE... 12 solid fucking years of this shit!! HEHEHE... And I cant see an end.

Where is my nirvana, my small taste of shangri-la, my Tibet? Of course, I know where part of this, these metaphors lay, but I held out, held onto my aces for a second too long and saw my prize, my saving grace fade, dissappear. Its difficult to be optimistic when your heart aches day after day.

You could regard this all as self-obsession and you'd be right in some small way. Afterall, I've spent long and long blaming myself for my mis-givings and mistakes, better that dont you agree, than to sit here and place blame with others. Better that, wouldnt you agree, than to sit here and name and shame. Would be far easier perhaps to pass judgement on others, but that in itself would be an act of weakness and I am stronger than all, am I not? Acknowledging that a release soon comes, taking stock, trying to evaluate my mortality, that I admit these things and am somehow humbled, does that not in itself contain an insurmountable strength. I beleive so. Sure, in some respects it is a hinderence, but I am still here, I'm still walking this line. This shit is real, this is where I'm at, this is what drives me... I am driven.

-Meditation on inevitable death be performed daily. Everyday, when ones mind and body are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing sepukku at the death of ones master. And every day without fail, one should consider himself as dead.

-A saying of the elders states, "step from under the eaves and you're a dead man. Leave the gates and the enemy is waiting". This is not a matter of being careful, it is to consider oneself as dead beforehand.

Yamamoto Tsunetomo (1659-1719)

Hagakure (In the Shadows of Leaves)

The Book of the Samurai.  

July '06

DATE: A day 

TIME: A time

MOOD: A mood

9:30am

I have painted myself into a corner, over all these years. Allowing myself to dig deeper and deeper within myself. Teasing myself at every opportunity with the questions that I should have let slip by. Much time has been devoted to the journey of the mind; perhaps some of that time can be considered a waste. Seconds, minutes, hours, eventually, days have drifted by unnoticed while I staid myself and dwelled further on the confusion my emotions brought me.

Acceptance of such things and the denial of such things wind onward, eternally.

Transgressions of the mind, body and the soul, alleviating issues of the heart with such stealth as to be non-existent, until the mind, body, soul and finally ones heart can take no more and these denials can no longer be denied, can no longer be ignored.

Suppresion still exists, in abundance, but fill a glass to the brim, expect some spillage.

So, I taint the page with my outpourings, spilling over to my hearts content, never making anything obvious to the ones who mattered until the moment had passed and I left myself open to my own torment. Perhaps it wasn’t this way all those years ago. Perhaps all those years ago it was simply a given but without substance, whereas now, the air is thick with turmoil, torment, constant re-evaluation of ones mortality, I never feared, never feared an end… Ones fear lays in knowing there may not be an end. Those strings of consciousness that keep me tethered now to the reality of a situation that upon a time went wholly ignored, trussed up, discarded and which reeked of weakness, now there is strength in these admissions. Left to my own devices, as I am now, I would admit these things endlessly at these four walls.

Transition comes with much pain and suffering, but transition comes nonetheless.

Do not, I urge you, do not mistake this all for the musings of the beautifully depressed, these are words also of the aged cynic. And as such, allows transition in all its guises and glories, the pain and the suffering are but moments in the cycle through which an end and a beginning is apparent but never expected.

10:22am

If I may be permitted to reiterate from past musings… Illumination harbours despondency.

It’s a simple thing, dwelling on ones demise, but an obvious contradiction, was it not through my own admission, that I would outlive you all? Indeed it was. And for all my ranting, I still believe. But the words I utter and the pictures those words paint dry and harden upon my cerebellum so that there is always a point of reference and through that I gain impetus, through, I am driven. “By Daemons be Driven”, never a truer word spoken in jest.

11:03am

The journey and all the questions that come with it, I’m curious, did Odysseus, during his 10 year journey back to Troy, his birthplace, did he harbour the same feelings, did his questions hold the same if not similar substance? And what of Dante, his journey through Hell, Purgatory and finally Paradise, were the questions, the confusions, the same?

Of course, I can barely, if at all, compare to either of them, I am not the same, I am made of lesser things, however, the journey is such and the metaphors exist through them, so that one can make them his/her own. Have I been journeying through my own metaphorical Hell, am I still there or is this Purgatory? Certainly, it feels that way, if one can put into context the punishment I have brought upon myself, then perhaps my paradise, my Troy is not so far away.

Perhaps I say this now to sate the appetite, as justification for what transpires now, an excuse if you will. Excuses are not my preference. Understanding, this is what I hold dear and what I seek, but I fear that may be asking too much, of myself, of those around me and everything in between.

11:45am

This is my journey, this is where I have led myself. Could I have done this differently? Perhaps. Would I want to do this differently? I doubt it. This is what I do. This is what I have become, what I have nurtured. One would say, fate acts in mysterious ways, however, I’ve never put faith in such a thing as fate as that would remove me from the equation. I disregard the idea that fate has had a hand in anything and instead put my faith in choice. For it is choice alone that has brought me thus far and it is choice that permits me to continually grind this axe. It was choice that made me look beyond my mortal coil and it was through choice that I allowed myself to see beyond the banality of simple thought and it was through choice that I looked for long and hard, too long too hard and thus it was through choice that I trapped myself.

I need you to see this, I need you to understand this. Do I?

I fear all I have left is this pen and this page.

“I have found some kind of temporary sanity, with this shit, cum and blood on my hands.”

12:01pm

The greatest part of me perceives what is able to drag me from this mire, this cycle, from this circle that appears to be a straight line, but the greatest part of me knows it has lost that which could have saved it.

This heart grieves heavily for its losses, the brow heavier now with its knowledge. Damn mine eyes.

I close them gently, so as to truly see and the body sways to and fro, so gently as to be almost imperceptible, but I can feel it, moving as a great wave, waiting to crash, but no shore exists.

Rain comes… Like blood.

I embrace my desire to
I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected enough to step aside and weep like a widow
to feel inspired to fathom the power, to witness the beauty,
to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral
to swing on the spiral
to swing on the spiral of our divinity and still be a human.

With my feet upon the ground I move myeslf between the sounds and open wide to suck it in.
I feel it move across my skin.
I'm reaching up and reaching out. I'm reaching for the random or what ever will bewilder me.
what ever will bewilder me.
And following our will and wind we may just go where no one's been.
We'll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one's been.
Spiral out. Keep going.
Spiral out. Keep going.
Spiral out. Keep going.
Spiral out. Keep going.
Spiral out. Keep going.

TOOL. "Lateralus" (taken from the album of the same name)

 September '06

A day and a half it has to gather the strength to lift this pen, to put it to paper, to again visualise that which devours.

Finally, each word, scribed like a hammer blow, each motion, rips through the page like a blade on flesh, burns like hot coals in the palm of your hand. Searing, white hot lamentation. Tired of this, exhausted through continual mental anguish, punishment, so much now that even my ghost becomes agitated…

“… A groan, of tedium escapes me…”

What is this? What am I doing? What am I doing here? Why have I arrived here?

“If there is no desire to heal…” What do I mean? Why am I continuing? Patience is a virtue, but, when is it considered right, polite, to become impatient? To be so completely over this so as to be reaching for something?  To require an end, wether physical or meta-physical? Consumed now, always, by the daemons that I tested, only to find that they have taken root and refuse to leave me.

Do you see the ridiculous situation? Daemons? They are me and I am in turn, them. Consumed by myself for the wrong reasons, warring, battling with myself, for what? Devoured by one another so that they and I become one, more than before. Eyes closed tightly, to wrap myself around them, drawing them close to me and they oblige by holding me closer still, wrapping around me, holding one another as lovers do, only we hold one another in a way lovers wish they could. And my eyes open to find myself lying prone with my arms wrapped around myself.

Purification through gestation,

Solace through suffering,

Sanity through punishment,

Results through retreat,

Calm through severance.

The cutting off, the removal, the severance of ties which bind me to these emotions I never knew before. Severance of a past so that my continuation and ideals can remain masked, so that I may rend self in a manner that is pleasing to me.

Severance of ties so that one truly becomes one, so that one is inherently and irrevocably self. Removal of past things so as to nurture my point again. What is my point? Why continue trying to figure it out when nothing is forthcoming and the questions will never be answered until an end which is absolute.

Convoluted and meandering, so severance is essential.

To say I never knew would be, again, ridiculous. The answers I require don’t exist; you would be a fool and a liar to tell me otherwise. And though I am aware of this, it does not halt the machine. Instead, I laugh, laugh heartily, laugh, cough, choke and spit blood! Laugh because I am amused by the things I hear, entertained by the ridiculous smiles that pass through me, entertained by the ridiculous conversations I hear and am privy to.

Who is anyone to tell me I cannot and should not feel the way I do? Who is anyone to tell me I cannot and should not berate and punish myself the way I do. Who is anyone to tell me what will pass when I am aware of a struggle that is eternal.

“My skin is cold, a transfusion with somebody, morose and old…”

You cannot equate my negativity,

I abhor your positivism,

You cannot equate my truth,

I abhor your lies.

I have only contempt for your blindness and so I come full circle, back to severance. The cutting off, the removal of the things that cause me to be this way because of what I have taken upon myself, because of what I allowed myself to feel. Such an obvious mistake to make, and remember, it is I who is it at fault for this. I am to be blamed for this… lapse.

This is the not so subtle art of self-destruction.

What the fuck am I waiting for?

White noise permeates my ears and I’ve detritus in my eyes.

The contempt I feel is now directed at me.

The anger that I feel is now directed at me.

The hate I feel is now directed at me.

The disgust I feel is now directed at me.

The love, all this and more which I feel now, is driven, hard, harsh at me, pointed inwardly.

While others looked, I saw, when others heard, I listened, but that is all I can ask, more fool me to think otherwise. The mind my friends, is a terrible thing to taste.

So I ask, is severance best for all involved? Ask yourself, do you need or want this level of underlying negativity around you? The question is simple, the answer… the only one forthcoming, is simpler still. Of course, this is all fairly vague, fairly meandering, this diatribe I spill, but how else would you like it, do I remain a mask just you all can feel better about yourselves.

Look at my face, at the smile on my face, the excitement in my eyes like that of a child, look at my face, can you not see these things?

Neither can I.

Excuse while I shed my skin, don’t look, avert your eyes while I try to shed the things that are killing me.

This is a statement of intention; a personal conflict becomes a public mask. Am I sorry? Not now… Not ever. This is a gift.

A great purge is on the horizon, a cleansing, and a re-assessment if you will. Mortality questioned, existence juxtaposed. This is a gift.

Holding onto a thought, reaching. Something dawned, in my deepest and darkest parts, I looked and saw, underneath it all in the recess of me, a shadowed figure and all that was visible was the smile on my face. In my deepest and darkest parts something in me enjoys what I do…

“…rain comes, like blood”.

Only this time it cleanses.

LATER THAT YEAR… Late October, early November to be precise…

…And the rain came, like blood and it did indeed cleanse. Plans were put into action, purge began, severance, gestation, suffering, punishment and retreat, all this and more took place since last I put pen to paper. And with it came purification, solace, sanity, calm and in my eyes, results. It matters little now of the things that came before, for the soul is still blackened, yet the aura burns bright and the man has healed of many things.

Look at my face, at the smile on my face, the excitement in my eyes, like that of a child, look at my face; can you not see these things?

I can.

Don’t misunderstand this however, don’t take this as a moment of weakness, don’t you dare. Severance has taught me well, in its own way gave me more strength than before so now I am me and all my daemons, only stronger and humbled, more me than at first glance.

The human race is still abhorrent to me and its demise entertains me still, but it is with a new found zeal that I perceive self and self only. Walking the razors edge of my own mortality always taught me that, only now I have understood more and have been glad and eternally grateful for my teachings. And who or what taught me? Why… I did of course. To wrestle with your mind, body and soul and to win is what we all want and it is what I did and it is why I now stand tall, head and shoulders above you all, with a new found perception, a humbled sense of narcissism that I have outdone something.

When I shut my eyes on those dark days and breathed in my hurt, held my breath for days, months, shut my eyes tightly so that the minds eye was devoid of light. Only to realise what I was holding onto was unnecessary and so I let go my breath, I breathed out that which hurt and allowed my minds eye to seek the light where none was apparent and what I found was myself, juxtaposed, profound, bigger, brighter, humbled more and dare I say… healed? By my own hand and not another. Now I breathe. Aware of my smile, aware again of the life that surges through me, my life, my energy, my perceptions, eyes bright like that of a new-born.

Remembering the things that I had forgotten. This energy compels me, to try myself, to fail, to try again with fervour. Old muscles creaked, moved and came back to life. And now, when they burn and become tight, I push them harder, to breaking point, because I can, with no fear, no fear of breaking.

You cannot bare witness to the changes, to the re-birth, for I do this and these things now, for me and in turn remove myself from you, I disappear, gather my strength, re-invent perhaps, let go of the things around me that would cause me to think otherwise, breath you all out, tighten sinew and muscle against it all, glance at the mirror, smile wide-eyed and excited as I feed my strength and see the day. I see the day. I see my needs and wants, only now I see these things with calm and patience, knowing what is owed to me but waiting for it and in no hurry, for I will have needs and wants and waiting for such is half the fun.

Too long spent chasing ghosts, looking for what was unnecessary, placing a faith of sorts in things that did not exist and forgetting why I was here… Not for you, not for them, but for me. Others come and go, self and the fulfilment therein is always retained.

My future contains no ghosts, entities or the unnecessary. It is I that fulfils the needs and wants. I work no harder for these things but instead know what it is I can attain by simply letting go. Daemons in agreement, after all, a part of the whole is all they ever asked and I am whole now. What I shed, I shed for me, this is a gift and I am the best at what I do. Look at the smile on my face, its subtle, I’ll admit that, but there are a chosen few that see, have seen, acknowledge and are privy to the subtleties and the changes.

Whereupon, the dark half moved in me with a strength insurmountable, now its found an opposite in the ethereal, now I’ve found an opposite in the ethereal. My daemons have come across something new (something old) so now the dark half moves with a new life, new energy, a new motivation, reason and point. Everything has become one, where once it all worked against the other for power, everything binds itself to the other, everything works in unison and it all has created a whole, a whole which was always there, it simply needed to know of its existence, its latent occupation of where and what. It works as one. Symbiosis in its purest and most humble form.

It is all dark and light, it is all harsh yet soft, it is all shadows and open spaces, black and white and everything in-between. What I see now, I see in-between what is apparent.

I devoured things from the past, I bathed in them, covered me in the past and now I’ve cleansed me. Removed not run away for I am still here. My mortality is still in question, the questions have changed, the answers, still not forthcoming, but now I know more and face the questions without answers, instead, with knowledge, calm and deliberation. Remember, there are no answers, understand, there are no answers and what you always knew will become apparent.

I’ve let go my burden and in doing so have made this a testament once again to my strength. All of this needed saying, all of this had to be said and now I let the burdens cease.

It all had to be said.

I’ve rubbed my eyes and am free now, free to delve into other parts of me, others will wish, hope to take this journey with me…

…keep wishing… keep hoping!