Big

disappointed by ~hanabie on deviantART

It happens gradually, this acceptance of a fate that spits in the face of your capabilities. It begins with the little things - things that make you boil in righteous anger, leaving you exhausted and reduced to the mental capacity of an infant. As you age, you start thinking it’s time to train yourself, time to muster control to contain the rage. You mature and you succeed. Years later you see that you have lost the ability to care about the big things.

Sometimes your sense of self gets away from you, with vaguely a notion of how or why it happens. On these days, you call up false memories of happier times when it’s just you and your naivete surviving the onslaught of moral perversion. Each time you come out battle-weary but more able to handle the ways of the world. It costs you your innocence, which you have been steadily losing, fraction by fraction after the first battle you have won.

This is where you are now, complacent in your mediocrity. You give her up, yourself once upon a time, whose potential used to loom large in your mind. It’s a weakness, this reliance on a version of yourself, who has nothing but faith in herself and the world. She’s a liability and you’re desperate to break her. You’re convinced it will make you stronger. Better. It takes you more than a year to erase every trace of her in your life. Why is it that without her you feel emptier, more mediocre?

Fractures

glitter-graphics.com

Thus, it stops—the need to verbalize everything, as I find consolation in words not spoken. Here, ideas are abandoned somewhere between the definite and the perhaps, while promises of a smile die before reaching my lips.

~o~

And miracles in their fragile containers shatter as they reach my corner of earth. I’m wondering if prayers divorced from faith can find their way home.

~o~

Whereas, the little disappointments accumulate and start to decompose behind my eyes, I am sincerely questioning my right to be tired.

4.25.09

People go through unspeakable horrors every day. It’s not like broken hearts make a difference. The universe is uncaring that way.

And it wouldn’t do to expect a reward. Not for getting out of bed, and certainly not for fulfilling social obligations. It would be wonderful if we get compensated for every tear, but life’s a bit unfair anyway. The world goes on, even as hearts ache.

So this is us, trying to make sense of the injustice of it all. And this is us not getting any answers, as hearts hurt a bit more. The millions tasks we do to fill the hours, may just be us, fearing the questions that actually have answers.

nolens volens

glitter-graphics.com

It’s the faint smell of desperation that clings to my body like a second skin. It’s the clever turn of phrase that eludes me more and more these days. It’s the steady undercurrent of doubt that makes most of my decisions unsound. It’s the frustration of craving sudden found joy in everything else.

Surely, this goes beyond the ennobling of ennui. Or maybe, this is ennui in its purest form, and I’m ill-equipped to handle it. One thing I’m sure of, every bit of my being is riddled with anguish.

The Line

glitter-graphics.com

You can't.

Is the only answer to the question, "How do you draw the line?"

Because for some people there's not even a line, just a point--a solitary, insecure point. For the hopeless, the point does not exist. The "point" is actually a piece of lint that looks uncannily like a point, waiting to be flicked off by totally uncaring fingers.

Of course, he tells me the line is there. It's just invisible.

To which I say, "You're so full of it."

Priorities

glitter-graphics.com

Is it the length of the fight or the significance of the cause that matters most in a battle? Of the war I have unwittingly found myself in, these are but secondary considerations. As far as I'm concerned, it's a lifetime battle, where failure is certainly not an option. The same goes for quitting...which is basically the genius of this unit called family. True, you can shun them, disown them even. But you can't really escape them in their entirety.

And that's why I am here, forging ahead, armed with nothing but love and prayer. Because tired as I am (as I have ever been in my entire life), there's no resigning allowed when it comes to family responsibilities. I'm permitted to cry, to feel tired, to question my lot in this world. And maybe, just maybe, that would give me enough reason not to lose this battle.

Prayer of St. Gertrude the Great

"Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Most Precious Blood of Thy Divine Son, Jesus, in union with the masses said throughout the world today, for all the holy souls in Purgatory, for sinners everywhere, for sinners in the universal church, those in my own home and within my family. Amen."

*Our Lord dictated the following prayer to St. Gertrude the Great to release 1,000 Souls from Purgatory each time it is said.

Besotted

When I'm profoundly drunk, I like to believe I'm a better person than I truly am. I like to pretend that all the meaningless things I have done, are nothing but natural effects to natural causes. I like to delude myself into thinking that I am much smarter in person, even if reality tells a different story...that I have as much appeal as peeling wallpaper. And that come the daylight, I will sober up and realize how much of a lie I AM.

Pix Credit: http://autumns-lament.deviantart.com/art/Alcoholic-79376700

Unnecessary Disquiet of the Soul

Because I feel like I have just given a kid a box of crayons. And he/she has chosen the gray one to color the clouds, the trees, flowers, and the sea.

People should stop telling me to relax, unless they are willing to stir the pot.

I agree . . . apathy does become me. And so does cynicism, but I'll deny it till I get blue in the face.

I am fascinated by things that appear ambiguous and very specific at the same time.

You may have read me wrong.

Pix Credit: http://kronicdreamer.deviantart.com/art/DISTURBED-28418399

Unspoken

I have always wondered if there'll ever be reason and opportunity for me to utter the words, "You're dead to me." Similarly, I wonder if I have missed out on my only chance to say, "You cut me deeper than any blade possibly could." Of course, that's just me stealing lines from Takezo Kensei. Still, I feel genuinely at a loss. Bereft, even. My sense of wonderment is clouded by an instict, which tells me that things in my world have suddenly fallen out of place.

Reposted: Knowing Best

I have no right to complain. I have attended enough masses, have learned all I can from nuns, and have practiced Catholicism just for that nugget of wisdom. Although, at this very moment, I am itching, no, dying to give God a piece of my mind. And yes, I am afraid of repercussions. But it seems to me God, being the supreme creature of infinite benevolence, will not smite me for speaking my mind. So I shall, in the manner of Job, and other beings more righteous than I am, get on with my grievances . . .

By my accounting, I am not a bad person. But it seems to me lately, You are having too much fun on my expense. And I do ask You to at least give me an explanation, some hint that You don't hate my guts. The loneliness I feel--if You have any idea that it is eating me alive--You'd have long ago parted the curtains of your celestial abode to give me crumbs from Your table.

And true, I am not the best there is. As far as I know, my talents are mediocre. Do You know that absenting Yourself from my life is not a test, but a cruel punishment? Do You know that I have exhausted all coping mechanisms available just to justify my faith in You?

Do not let me analyze the things that I am, and the things I could have been, for gratitude and regret cannot be separated by mere whim of will.

Disclaimer: I don't own the pix. http://www.progressdaily.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/03/god.jpg

Asking Nothing in Return

It may just be
that the rage I feel
is directed at the wrong places

That I do lash against the world
And never against people

That I complain incessantly to the heavens
and demand answers from God

It has dawned on me
I am the feelings I feel

Pix credit: http://pipid.deviantart.com/art/No-19-Introducing-God-56732165

Something to Say

I have been really busy dealing with work, with personal issues. But I guess that's no excuse to neglect blogging. And this is kind of a rough start for me, a sort-of re-learning how to ride a bike. Yes, you never forget that sort of thing, but I'm assuming it's not as easy as most of us would like to think. The truth is, I am consumed by family matters. I worry, that's my thing. I worry a lot. I could tell people right now that I can bear to lose all my friends, just not my family. And yes, that's the sort of sentimentality that I try to avoid. But even if I rarely talk about it, it will never stop being true. It's funny, because only a few people see right through the heart of me. Still, I choose to let it all out here, instead of engaging in some therapeutic sob fest. I know I'm purposely being vague. Only God knows what I am going through right now. I can only pray He is listening.

My 'something to say' just lost its way. So be it.