I'm home alone again.
Once more I've begun another housebound vacation, with only Cocoa as my constant companion. With nothing to drown out the noise in my head, I have no choice but to face my hypocrisies and contradictions.
I call it my native sadness. I reach for depressing thoughts the way an alcoholic reaches for the bottle: because I must, because I just need one more to fix things, because I'm just oh-so-sad-and-confused, because things are difficult right now, because I can stop anytime and one more won't hurt, because i wouldn't be me without it...because, because, because.
Because I'd rather be unhappy.
Because sad = deep, and familiar.
Because happy takes too much work, is corny, and not realistic/sensible/meaningful anyway.
I think maybe that true happiness is the feeling that one deserves to be happy, that one has made the best possible use of one's gifts and circumstances, talents and opportunities. When you have earned your achievements, fulfilled your potential, maybe then...
The way things are, the way I am, it's never gonna happen for me.
Something's gotta give.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
i prefer feeling mellow. dude, have you read jonathan safran foer's books? they're sort of written in the 'magical realism' genre, but with a more down-to-earth twist. maybe i don't make sense. anyway, i suggested that because i remember you were an avid reader once, and maybe you're confusing that, a couch, and a cup of tea with moping.
no, i haven't, but i'll put his work on hold.
for the record, i don't have a couch and i haven't been reading.
Hello, have read many of your entries and have dicided to leave a post.
In this case a poet has put into haiku words for reflection that made me think of some of your post while I was reading them. He is not a hardcore traditionalist poet, but two in particular seem to fit.
Through the looking glass--
Her focus so far ahead
the journey is lost.
Like walking through mist,
A mind grasping for meaning
may lose sight of goal.
Okay paged through their tabs and found another. LoL. There are some good stuff in there, but I promise its the last one.
Chaos feeds order:
Life's plan lived to fruitation
lacks vigor and truth.
I know that poems don't move everyone. I also know that--for all--they don't hold a truth that when understood and made relative to the reader, provides a spark of inspiration or new insight. But I hope it helps. Good Luck.
Post a Comment