My unwashed thoughts.
Straight from the soul.
Not nessasarily based on reality.
| ||
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I can't seem to focus
or better yet I can't seem to shift my focus
hands are shaking
slight nauseous feeling in my gut
I obsess on the dysfunctional abyss I am in
the store looks normal
much like my family
but scratch the surface and...
back to obsessing
why am I failing?
why does he hate me?
Does he hate me?
damn, I have developed an eye twitch
fuck this
I don't deserve it
or do I?
Bad karma, good karma
God acting or dispassionately laughing at
my fucked up life
A thought comes up from somewhere deep down in my memory
that I am only pretending to be human
pretending to be an adult
a father
a husband
a son
I don't really know how to be human
I don't really know what I am doing
thats why I get confused
when other perceptions of me
do not match
as a matter of fact
they are usually the exact opposite
of my reality.
or better yet I can't seem to shift my focus
hands are shaking
slight nauseous feeling in my gut
I obsess on the dysfunctional abyss I am in
the store looks normal
much like my family
but scratch the surface and...
back to obsessing
why am I failing?
why does he hate me?
Does he hate me?
damn, I have developed an eye twitch
fuck this
I don't deserve it
or do I?
Bad karma, good karma
God acting or dispassionately laughing at
my fucked up life
A thought comes up from somewhere deep down in my memory
that I am only pretending to be human
pretending to be an adult
a father
a husband
a son
I don't really know how to be human
I don't really know what I am doing
thats why I get confused
when other perceptions of me
do not match
as a matter of fact
they are usually the exact opposite
of my reality.
No one who, like me, conjures up the most evil of those half-tamed demons that inhabit the human breast, and seeks to wrestle with them, can expect to come through the struggle unscathed.
SIGMUND FREUD,
SIGMUND FREUD,
Who am I?
When I found myself,
I did not know if I liked the person I had become,
Digging deep into the bile of my life,
Finding in the end,
At the core,
Nothing,
Nothing to love,
Nothing to respect,
The man who started me on this path is dead,
The man who kept me on this path,
Who told me everything would be ok,
Who said that it was impossible to hate the person I really am,
Who held my soul in the palm of his hands,
Is full of crap!
It all comes to nothing,
Enlightenment equals pain,
I am tired of suffering,
Tired of feeling,
Tired of trying, I see nothing but suffering around me,
I feel all this pain,
And want it to go away.
When I found myself,
I did not know if I liked the person I had become,
Digging deep into the bile of my life,
Finding in the end,
At the core,
Nothing,
Nothing to love,
Nothing to respect,
The man who started me on this path is dead,
The man who kept me on this path,
Who told me everything would be ok,
Who said that it was impossible to hate the person I really am,
Who held my soul in the palm of his hands,
Is full of crap!
It all comes to nothing,
Enlightenment equals pain,
I am tired of suffering,
Tired of feeling,
Tired of trying, I see nothing but suffering around me,
I feel all this pain,
And want it to go away.
The clouds obscure the sun,
The darkness of night in day,
He falls to his knees to pray,
Oh God! When will the pain be done?
Laughing with his kids in play,
Forgetting for a moment the avalanche of grief,
That the silence of its coming strains belief,
That the joy in his children's eyes burn away the grey,
And then in the darkness a light revealed,
One so bright that hope and love and life can never again be concealed.
The darkness of night in day,
He falls to his knees to pray,
Oh God! When will the pain be done?
Laughing with his kids in play,
Forgetting for a moment the avalanche of grief,
That the silence of its coming strains belief,
That the joy in his children's eyes burn away the grey,
And then in the darkness a light revealed,
One so bright that hope and love and life can never again be concealed.
fear,
panic,
nausea,
My mind keeps freezing up on me.
ctrl-alt-delete
keep going, inch by inch
reboot.............
over and over again.
I am afraid that at some point I will not restart.
It took me years to fully integrate into 'reality'
and I feel it slipping away..........
panic,
nausea,
My mind keeps freezing up on me.
ctrl-alt-delete
keep going, inch by inch
reboot.............
over and over again.
I am afraid that at some point I will not restart.
It took me years to fully integrate into 'reality'
and I feel it slipping away..........
Sitting out front of a house,
My first stop of the day,
Waiting....
The sense of time ticking away,
overwhelms me,
How many seconds do I have?
How many wasted moments left to me?
I feel small,
insignificant,
a failure at this game of life,
Too much trauma,
Too much pain,
Too many bad choices,
What God wants....
...................God gets
My first stop of the day,
Waiting....
The sense of time ticking away,
overwhelms me,
How many seconds do I have?
How many wasted moments left to me?
I feel small,
insignificant,
a failure at this game of life,
Too much trauma,
Too much pain,
Too many bad choices,
What God wants....
...................God gets
My Psalm
Lord of all that is,
Of all that is light and all that is darkness,
When I was young you planted a seed of faith,
Your wisdom saw beyond my limited sight,
My mind was assailed,
My body tormented,
My world was full of darkness,
Without the light of your love,
Yet, your seed grew,
Feeding on the turmoil and pain,
In the darkness I was full of sin,
Not worthy of your light,
And at the darkest dark night of my soul,
When your power, your love,
Seemed so far away as not to exist,
In your majestic universe my darkness,
Was but a shadow cast by a pebble at noon,
Then, your seed burst forth into the light,
Out of the pain,
Out of my darkened soul,
Into the light of my faith,
Becoming a beacon for others,
So they can see the beauty of your universe,
While stepping over that pebble,
That caused such a small shadow,
On the path to your love.
Lord of all that is,
Of all that is light and all that is darkness,
When I was young you planted a seed of faith,
Your wisdom saw beyond my limited sight,
My mind was assailed,
My body tormented,
My world was full of darkness,
Without the light of your love,
Yet, your seed grew,
Feeding on the turmoil and pain,
In the darkness I was full of sin,
Not worthy of your light,
And at the darkest dark night of my soul,
When your power, your love,
Seemed so far away as not to exist,
In your majestic universe my darkness,
Was but a shadow cast by a pebble at noon,
Then, your seed burst forth into the light,
Out of the pain,
Out of my darkened soul,
Into the light of my faith,
Becoming a beacon for others,
So they can see the beauty of your universe,
While stepping over that pebble,
That caused such a small shadow,
On the path to your love.
Your soul is like an egg shell,
it holds your existence together, your consciousness, your unconscious mind, your body, your entire being, Has my soul been cracked? was there fingers running through my yolk and whites, separating my body from my mind? Has there been such damage as to never be able to put
humpty dumpty back together again?
Is the pain I suffer from,
Are the conditions I have actually just the pain from the separation of my mind from my body, the separated egg never can revert back to the whole,
the perfect nature of the egg in its shell,
one being,
one entity,
Over the years, with help, I have gathered the scattered egg whites together,
formed them into a coherent mass,
constructed a souffle that,
when poked or prodded collapses into a heap.
I keep it inflated by this trick or that.
The yolk, once broken tends to fall apart,
never really being able to hold its form, I
patch it,
prod it,
but it will never be whole again.
This separation of yolk/whites, body/mind is a permanent thing,
the shell/soul once cracked is hard to heal.
Can faith repair it?
Did God let it be cracked open?
Why?
As they say, "You have to crack some eggs to make an omelet."
What is the omelet I am making?
for what grand reason was my shell cracked open?
it holds your existence together, your consciousness, your unconscious mind, your body, your entire being, Has my soul been cracked? was there fingers running through my yolk and whites, separating my body from my mind? Has there been such damage as to never be able to put
humpty dumpty back together again?
Is the pain I suffer from,
Are the conditions I have actually just the pain from the separation of my mind from my body, the separated egg never can revert back to the whole,
the perfect nature of the egg in its shell,
one being,
one entity,
Over the years, with help, I have gathered the scattered egg whites together,
formed them into a coherent mass,
constructed a souffle that,
when poked or prodded collapses into a heap.
I keep it inflated by this trick or that.
The yolk, once broken tends to fall apart,
never really being able to hold its form, I
patch it,
prod it,
but it will never be whole again.
This separation of yolk/whites, body/mind is a permanent thing,
the shell/soul once cracked is hard to heal.
Can faith repair it?
Did God let it be cracked open?
Why?
As they say, "You have to crack some eggs to make an omelet."
What is the omelet I am making?
for what grand reason was my shell cracked open?
My daughter say's "Daddy, When your body stops hurting you can we bake some bread?"
I feel the stab of pain in my soul. I want to go to church but my shoulder hurts so badly as if I had been shot through by a 357 magnum. I am nearing the end of my patience with the pain.
gaze_o'pain
I feel the stab of pain in my soul. I want to go to church but my shoulder hurts so badly as if I had been shot through by a 357 magnum. I am nearing the end of my patience with the pain.
gaze_o'pain
"Pain is a part of being alive, and we need to learn that. Pain does not last
forever, nor is it necessarily unbeatable, and we need to be taught that."
– Harold Kushner
Pain once again has taken over my life,
I look out my window at the world going by,
And curse my fate while struggling to get out of bed,
Dreaming of smoking, like it would be some kind of cure for the pain,
Through my clouded thoughts comes an invitation,
Vacation bible school recital,
The thought of a hundred screaming,
happy kids makes me want to crawl up in a ball,
Jealousy?
I go, to be part of my kids world at least a little bit,
Unshaven because my hands shake too much to shave,
Dressed in a shabby sweat suit because its too painfull to change into something different
I go to church and prayer no one notices me.
My kids teacher approaches me while I sit in the Narthex trying not to be noticed,
She hands me a book madfe of brightly colored construction paper,
She says I could read some letters to God the kids had made while I was waiting.
They were cute and typical,
Dear God, Please send me a puppy.
Dear God, please tell my parents to take me to Disney World.
Dear God, Are you an Artist?
Then I came upon my son Ian's letter,
Dear God, Please make my Daddy feel better.
I sat there stunned,
My mind awash in emotion,
Bonnie came to me and asked what I thought,
She had known what he wrote earlier that day,
Everyone seemed to know!
I was exposed sitting their,
Vurnerable,
I went into the Pastors office to be alone and collect my thoughts,
Tears starting to flow,
Why?
Yes, it was sweet that he wrote it,
He is a wonderfully empathetic little boy,
But now I am sobbing uncontrolably,
Barry, the Pastor comes in and asks if I am alright,
Who knows, I thought the tears were stopping but when he asked they came gushing forth again, Why is it affecting me so?
I could hear the kids singing in the church,
I was missing it,
Barry said that he thought that Ian was saying that he felt badly for me,
Not that he was thinking he was missing out on things because I was sick.
More crying,
Why?
I still don't fully know,
But one thing I do know is,
I have the greatest son in the entire world!
Some how the pain foes not seem so bad this morning.
I look out my window at the world going by,
And curse my fate while struggling to get out of bed,
Dreaming of smoking, like it would be some kind of cure for the pain,
Through my clouded thoughts comes an invitation,
Vacation bible school recital,
The thought of a hundred screaming,
happy kids makes me want to crawl up in a ball,
Jealousy?
I go, to be part of my kids world at least a little bit,
Unshaven because my hands shake too much to shave,
Dressed in a shabby sweat suit because its too painfull to change into something different
I go to church and prayer no one notices me.
My kids teacher approaches me while I sit in the Narthex trying not to be noticed,
She hands me a book madfe of brightly colored construction paper,
She says I could read some letters to God the kids had made while I was waiting.
They were cute and typical,
Dear God, Please send me a puppy.
Dear God, please tell my parents to take me to Disney World.
Dear God, Are you an Artist?
Then I came upon my son Ian's letter,
Dear God, Please make my Daddy feel better.
I sat there stunned,
My mind awash in emotion,
Bonnie came to me and asked what I thought,
She had known what he wrote earlier that day,
Everyone seemed to know!
I was exposed sitting their,
Vurnerable,
I went into the Pastors office to be alone and collect my thoughts,
Tears starting to flow,
Why?
Yes, it was sweet that he wrote it,
He is a wonderfully empathetic little boy,
But now I am sobbing uncontrolably,
Barry, the Pastor comes in and asks if I am alright,
Who knows, I thought the tears were stopping but when he asked they came gushing forth again, Why is it affecting me so?
I could hear the kids singing in the church,
I was missing it,
Barry said that he thought that Ian was saying that he felt badly for me,
Not that he was thinking he was missing out on things because I was sick.
More crying,
Why?
I still don't fully know,
But one thing I do know is,
I have the greatest son in the entire world!
Some how the pain foes not seem so bad this morning.
Day 3 and I want to scream!
Every joint in my body is stiff and has a deep ache to it. Every muscle in my body twitches and is weak to the point of not holding me up.
But somehow I am not doing enough?
Somehow the reason the house is a disaster is because I do not pick up anything.
I want to smoke very badly, but I won't. It gives to much power against me.
I won't let it win.
I can't.
Every joint in my body is stiff and has a deep ache to it. Every muscle in my body twitches and is weak to the point of not holding me up.
But somehow I am not doing enough?
Somehow the reason the house is a disaster is because I do not pick up anything.
I want to smoke very badly, but I won't. It gives to much power against me.
I won't let it win.
I can't.
The card table with a sign in crayon,
"Lemonade 50 cents"
Sometimes just one kid sitting there wondering if this is such a good idea.
Bored,
Then I stop,
The childs eyes light up with hope,
Somewaht nervous because up to now the only customer was Mom and the lady next door.
I ask if its cold,
If its homemade,
And whatever the answer I smile and enjoy it.
The lemonade stand is an enduring symbol of whats great about this country,
Initiative,
Risk taking,
Sometimes the lemonade is a mix,
poorely done,
Other times real fesh squeezed!
Then I buy two!
I give encouragement and drive away,
somehow, the day seems cooler,
The presure of the day somewhat lessened,
By a little lemonade stand,
And a kid with dreams.
Springs dampness weighs on everything,
Movement is leaden,
Hope is slow to come,
Time moves as if not concerned with actual time,
even the clocks are damp,
My bones feel heavy with dampness,
The cats seem to move slowly,
dampness
Movement is leaden,
Hope is slow to come,
Time moves as if not concerned with actual time,
even the clocks are damp,
My bones feel heavy with dampness,
The cats seem to move slowly,
dampness
Lost,
Pain and weakness envelope me,
Death happening all around me,
My right side of my body no longer works,
fading,
lost
Pain and weakness envelope me,
Death happening all around me,
My right side of my body no longer works,
fading,
lost
My world becomes smaller,
As the days become longer,
Pain washes through my body,
Like the sea at high tide,
The beach loses its width and depth,
My perspective lessens, becomes narrow,
Life becomes a series of tasks,
One at a time,
Through the pain,
not knowing if you will be able to complete the next.
As the days become longer,
Pain washes through my body,
Like the sea at high tide,
The beach loses its width and depth,
My perspective lessens, becomes narrow,
Life becomes a series of tasks,
One at a time,
Through the pain,
not knowing if you will be able to complete the next.
I feel the world pressing in on me,
My Uncle dies and I wonder,
Why haven't I died?
He was a boy scout,
I, abused my body,
As the pain worms it's way through my entire being,
I sit and wonder at why I'm here,
My Wife?
My children?
Possibly,
Not me, of that I am sure.
I feel the blankness lifting,
THe sun rising in a clear morning sky,
SHed hatred and fear,
Find love and compassion
THe sun rising in a clear morning sky,
SHed hatred and fear,
Find love and compassion
Rain all day,
Sullen, soggy weather,
no sun,
No light,
No hope,
For days like this,
Since he died,
Sorrow?
Why?
Raining constantly,
Damp to my bones,
Hatred.
Sullen, soggy weather,
no sun,
No light,
No hope,
For days like this,
Since he died,
Sorrow?
Why?
Raining constantly,
Damp to my bones,
Hatred.
My abuser died on monday.
You would think I would have a profound thought or two on the subject.
Maybe and emotion here or there.
Nope.
Nothing.
Maybe tommorrow................
You would think I would have a profound thought or two on the subject.
Maybe and emotion here or there.
Nope.
Nothing.
Maybe tommorrow................
Good Friday in my Heart
By Mary Elizabeth Coleridge (1861–1907)
Good Friday in my heart! Fear and affright!
My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled,
My words the words that priest and soldier said,
My deed the spear to desecrate the dead.
And day, Thy death therein, is changed to night.
Then Easter in my heart sends up the sun.
My thoughts are Mary, when she turned to see.
My words are Peter, answering, ‘Lov’st thou Me?’
My deeds are all Thine own drawn close to Thee,
And night and day, since Thou dost rise, are one.
By Mary Elizabeth Coleridge (1861–1907)
Good Friday in my heart! Fear and affright!
My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled,
My words the words that priest and soldier said,
My deed the spear to desecrate the dead.
And day, Thy death therein, is changed to night.
Then Easter in my heart sends up the sun.
My thoughts are Mary, when she turned to see.
My words are Peter, answering, ‘Lov’st thou Me?’
My deeds are all Thine own drawn close to Thee,
And night and day, since Thou dost rise, are one.
Dear God:
I want to thank you for what you have already done.
I am not going to wait until I see results or receive rewards, I am
thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until I feel better or things look better, I am
thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until people say they are sorry or until they stop
talking about me, I am thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until the pain in my body disappears, I am
thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until my financial situation improves, I am going
to thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until the children are asleep and the house is
quiet, I am going to thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until I get promoted at work or until I get the
job, I am going to thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until I understand every experience in my life
that has caused me pain or grief, I am going thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until the journey gets easier or the challenges
are removed. I am thanking you right now.
I am thanking you because I am alive.
I am thanking you because I made it through the day's difficulties.
I am thanking you because I have walked around the obstacles.
I am thanking you because I have the ability and the opportunity to do
more and do better.
I am thanking you because you have not given up on me.
Lee
I want to thank you for what you have already done.
I am not going to wait until I see results or receive rewards, I am
thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until I feel better or things look better, I am
thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until people say they are sorry or until they stop
talking about me, I am thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until the pain in my body disappears, I am
thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until my financial situation improves, I am going
to thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until the children are asleep and the house is
quiet, I am going to thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until I get promoted at work or until I get the
job, I am going to thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until I understand every experience in my life
that has caused me pain or grief, I am going thank you right now.
I am not going to wait until the journey gets easier or the challenges
are removed. I am thanking you right now.
I am thanking you because I am alive.
I am thanking you because I made it through the day's difficulties.
I am thanking you because I have walked around the obstacles.
I am thanking you because I have the ability and the opportunity to do
more and do better.
I am thanking you because you have not given up on me.
Lee
Trying desperatly to make Bonnie happy. It is increasingly difficult. She has a nasty thing to say to everything and is unappreciative of anything I try to do. But, in love you keep trying, and I will keep trying.
Fully exhausted after some serious work hours we headed off for the West Orange St. Patricks day parade.
Corned beef, Guiness and junk food! Had a great time with the kids. We hung out in the office of the prosecuter of West Orange who's office is right on the parade route. All the different groups came buy to get corned beef and a drink before the parade. A beuatifull day, chilly but not cold, sunny.
Pics to follow tommorrow.
Corned beef, Guiness and junk food! Had a great time with the kids. We hung out in the office of the prosecuter of West Orange who's office is right on the parade route. All the different groups came buy to get corned beef and a drink before the parade. A beuatifull day, chilly but not cold, sunny.
Pics to follow tommorrow.
I feel as if the perception of me is completley alien to my perception of me.
Life can only be understood backwards;
but it must be lived forwards."
Søren Kierkegaard
but it must be lived forwards."
Søren Kierkegaard
Working today, Sunday, I hate working Sundays! WHy ? Feast or famine it seems. Bonnie and others are saying I look very old because my beard is long and grey. They think it should be shorter and COLORED!
Dying my hair seems only one step from Toupe wearing. Am I right or wrong on this matter?
Well, to make Bonnie happy I used just for men today. its subtle but to me fake looking. I hope she likes it.
Dying my hair seems only one step from Toupe wearing. Am I right or wrong on this matter?
Well, to make Bonnie happy I used just for men today. its subtle but to me fake looking. I hope she likes it.
Sitting here in a Starbucks (their Coffee is way to expensive and not that good)
I'm here for the internet.
The people of NJ have gone mad!
They are driving as if they are zombies hell bent on killing everything that comes their way.
I don't want to go back out there, but I have to.
The radio sucks today as well.
All Howard stern being kicked off the air and the passion critics who have seen the movie with their own colored glasses.
Stupid stupid stupid!
I'm going to put on some Ella and chill out.
I'm here for the internet.
The people of NJ have gone mad!
They are driving as if they are zombies hell bent on killing everything that comes their way.
I don't want to go back out there, but I have to.
The radio sucks today as well.
All Howard stern being kicked off the air and the passion critics who have seen the movie with their own colored glasses.
Stupid stupid stupid!
I'm going to put on some Ella and chill out.
Html code hell, wishing I knew the language,
Wishing I never needed to,
Copy, paste, delete, post, copy,
I hate this
Wishing I never needed to,
Copy, paste, delete, post, copy,
I hate this
"He was trying to gather up the scarlet threads of life, and to weave them into a pattern ; to find his way through the sanguine labyrinth of passion through which he was wandering." - Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
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HOW SMART DOES YOUR BED HAVE TO BE, BEFORE YOU ARE AFRAID TO GO TO SLEEP AT NIGHT?
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"In societies where modern conditions of production prevail, all of life presents itself as an immense accumulation of "spectacles". Everything that was directly lived has moved away into representation.
- Guy Dubord, "The Society of the Spectacle" c 1967
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back in the kitchen he fished in his various pockets for a dime, and, with it, started up the coffeepot. Sniffing the -to him- very unusual smell, he again consulted his watch, saw that fifteen minutes had passed; he therefore vigorously strode to the apt door, turned the knob and pulled on the release bolt.
The door refused to open. It said, "Five cents, please."
He searched his pockets. No more coins; nothing. "I'll pay you tomorrow," he told the door. Again he tried the knob. Again it remained locked tight. "What I pay you," he informed it, "is in the nature of a gratuity; I don't have to pay you."
"I think otherwise," the door said, "Look in the purchase contract you signed when you bought this conapt."
In his desk drawer he found the contract; since signing it he had found it necessary to refer to the document many times. Sure enough; payment to this door for opening and shutting constituted a mandatory fee. Not a tip.
"You discover I'm right," the door said. It sounded smug.
From the drawer beside the sink Joe Chip got a stainless steel knife; with it he began systematically to unscrew the bolt assembly of his apt's money-gulping door.
"I'll sue you," the door said as the first screw fell out.
Joe Chip said, "I've never been sued by a door. But I guess I can live through it."
- Philip K. Dick, "Ubik" c 1969
HOW SMART DOES YOUR BED HAVE TO BE, BEFORE YOU ARE AFRAID TO GO TO SLEEP AT NIGHT?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"In societies where modern conditions of production prevail, all of life presents itself as an immense accumulation of "spectacles". Everything that was directly lived has moved away into representation.
- Guy Dubord, "The Society of the Spectacle" c 1967
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back in the kitchen he fished in his various pockets for a dime, and, with it, started up the coffeepot. Sniffing the -to him- very unusual smell, he again consulted his watch, saw that fifteen minutes had passed; he therefore vigorously strode to the apt door, turned the knob and pulled on the release bolt.
The door refused to open. It said, "Five cents, please."
He searched his pockets. No more coins; nothing. "I'll pay you tomorrow," he told the door. Again he tried the knob. Again it remained locked tight. "What I pay you," he informed it, "is in the nature of a gratuity; I don't have to pay you."
"I think otherwise," the door said, "Look in the purchase contract you signed when you bought this conapt."
In his desk drawer he found the contract; since signing it he had found it necessary to refer to the document many times. Sure enough; payment to this door for opening and shutting constituted a mandatory fee. Not a tip.
"You discover I'm right," the door said. It sounded smug.
From the drawer beside the sink Joe Chip got a stainless steel knife; with it he began systematically to unscrew the bolt assembly of his apt's money-gulping door.
"I'll sue you," the door said as the first screw fell out.
Joe Chip said, "I've never been sued by a door. But I guess I can live through it."
- Philip K. Dick, "Ubik" c 1969
I don/t know where I am going, IO do not know where I have been. Will the sickness ever pass? Will I ever be able to run with my kids? Snow board? Ride a horse? Walk more than 50 feet without being spent? I am tired all the time, my mind constantly hibernating, shutting down, I have to reboot constantly. What if I forget my password? What if one day my mind does not wake up? Fear grips my future like an anaconda grips a defenseless pig.
I'm back!
Been very sick lately
Pneumonia
I have missed posting and will try to get back into the habit of posting everyday
Been very sick lately
Pneumonia
I have missed posting and will try to get back into the habit of posting everyday
A relaxing bath,
Listining to Medititative Zen flutes playing,
Candles lit, the world fades away,
One brief moment of escape,
I soak the aches away,
and unwind the muscles so tight from the day,
Wishing for something I can't quite grasp,
Forgetting what it was I wished.
Listining to Medititative Zen flutes playing,
Candles lit, the world fades away,
One brief moment of escape,
I soak the aches away,
and unwind the muscles so tight from the day,
Wishing for something I can't quite grasp,
Forgetting what it was I wished.
St John of the cross wrote the “the dark night of the soul”
One stanza reads
"Where then hast Thou hidden
O my Beloved,
Leaving me alone
In the tears of my grief?"
I was raised in this church.
Taught that faith was a happy thing.
And it was.
My parents and teachers taught me to have faith in people, trust them.
They trusted my fifth grade teacher.
He was president of the teachers union and went to the Methodist church where he taught Sunday school.
My parents had faith in him,
He said that he would tutor me, help me,
evil can be very persuasive.
After years of my teacher abusing me,
the light of Gods love dimmed and was almost extinguished.
One of the effects of abuse is a disconnect between your spirit and your body.
It’s as if your soul goes to sleep to protect itself from harm.
In an abusive situation, you become merged with your abuser.
The boundary between you becomes blurred
and if lasts long enough,
disappears.
This is why there is so much guilt felt by the victim.
When the people who care for them learn of the abuse and they react by saying, “He is a monster, he is evil”
They do not understand that you have merged with your abuser, you are one with him.
So that you hear “you are a monster” and “you are evil”
The path is dark and at times God seems to be very far away.
The abuse causes confusion in all of your relationships
"Where then hast Thou hidden
O my Beloved,
Leaving me alone
In the tears of my grief?"
What I thought was a close relationship to God was only superficial.
I had all the words and knew the service yes;
yet deep down I was angry with God but did not know it.
Then I started on the path of healing.
Through serious reflection and reliving the mental trauma of years past
I began to see that I was angry with God and the church.
I stopped going and made many excuses as to why.
Looking deep within myself I realized that I had entered what is called “the Dark night of the soul.”
St John of the cross wrote of it in the early 1500’s
He described a path to a true union with God.
Without Gods light, I felt as if I were evil,
yet I wanted God to remove all of my faults.
I Wanted Him to cleanse me of all of the evil done to me and by me.
If God were to wave his hand and make everything OK then I would become arrogant
with pride feeling omnipotent.
The reality is one has to travel the path and lose the light of God before reaching true union with him.
Modern psychiatry has confirmed what St John wrote in the 1500’s.
That these steps are absolutely necessary to achieve peace.
This journey is on no map,
no points A, B, C to connect.
All boundaries and time had been blurred and distorted by the abuse.
The following trials are not in any order or time frame.
Every step was painful and had its own pace.
But we can never get over our abuse we can only get through it.
While in the midst of my journey I wrote this,
How terrible the pain of Knowing
To know something that once was lost, to feel old feelings long gone away,
They say its good to know, but at what cost?
How terrible the pain of knowing.
I became angry at my own imperfections and sought to become a saint in a day.
Overcoming the thought that it was my fault that the abuse happened,
I then felt that only I was innocent and holy,
and I could not live with the fact that my abuser was locked in the cycle of abuse and possibly lost forever,
That my parents were touched by the evil and lost their innocence by the knowledge of the evil done to me.
This roller coaster of emotions was a necessary step on the path back to Gods light and Love
Then came righteous anger at those who have done evil.
This anger is all consuming, but necessary to go through.
When we go through this anger and finally let it go, you are freed from it.
When entering into the dark night all of these thoughts and feelings are placed in reasonable order and perspective.
This night strengthens and purifies the love that is God but in the beginning you feel abandoned by Him.
Then when all seems lost and the light of God cannot be seen or felt,
and we have shed our wants and forgiven those who have done us harm and let go of our desires,
God shines his light on us and in us
so that we know him and are finally at peace.
In this blissful night
Secretly, no man seeing me,
I seeing nothing,
With no other light or guide
But that which burned in my heart.
And it led me
Surer than the light of the noonday.
Going through the dark night is a terrifying thing to do for a victim of abuse.
Regaining control is an important part of a victim’s journey.
I did not give up control of my childhood voluntarily
it was taken from me.
Control is the abusers main weapon.
But to let God’s light back in to my soul, I needed to have faith and to let go of the facades that were built to protect me as a child.
The facades have outlived their usefulness and the adult now has another hurdle to overcome.
Why give up control again?
Because you have too.
The abuse was in the physical realm.
The relationship with God is in the spiritual.
When deep into the dark night you loose sight of both the spiritual and physical, positive and negative, good and evil.
You are utterly alone.
Nothingness, a forlornness, nakedness, and emptiness
But then when all was lost.
God filled me with light and life.
All of the old questions,
Do I blame God?,
my parents?
Or my abuser became irrelevant
there now is nothing between the Love of God and myself.
Everything that happened to me, led me to the dark night.
Without them I would never have gotten there.
Now, through the night I know myself,
I know God
and I know the world around me.
All is light.
One stanza reads
"Where then hast Thou hidden
O my Beloved,
Leaving me alone
In the tears of my grief?"
I was raised in this church.
Taught that faith was a happy thing.
And it was.
My parents and teachers taught me to have faith in people, trust them.
They trusted my fifth grade teacher.
He was president of the teachers union and went to the Methodist church where he taught Sunday school.
My parents had faith in him,
He said that he would tutor me, help me,
evil can be very persuasive.
After years of my teacher abusing me,
the light of Gods love dimmed and was almost extinguished.
One of the effects of abuse is a disconnect between your spirit and your body.
It’s as if your soul goes to sleep to protect itself from harm.
In an abusive situation, you become merged with your abuser.
The boundary between you becomes blurred
and if lasts long enough,
disappears.
This is why there is so much guilt felt by the victim.
When the people who care for them learn of the abuse and they react by saying, “He is a monster, he is evil”
They do not understand that you have merged with your abuser, you are one with him.
So that you hear “you are a monster” and “you are evil”
The path is dark and at times God seems to be very far away.
The abuse causes confusion in all of your relationships
"Where then hast Thou hidden
O my Beloved,
Leaving me alone
In the tears of my grief?"
What I thought was a close relationship to God was only superficial.
I had all the words and knew the service yes;
yet deep down I was angry with God but did not know it.
Then I started on the path of healing.
Through serious reflection and reliving the mental trauma of years past
I began to see that I was angry with God and the church.
I stopped going and made many excuses as to why.
Looking deep within myself I realized that I had entered what is called “the Dark night of the soul.”
St John of the cross wrote of it in the early 1500’s
He described a path to a true union with God.
Without Gods light, I felt as if I were evil,
yet I wanted God to remove all of my faults.
I Wanted Him to cleanse me of all of the evil done to me and by me.
If God were to wave his hand and make everything OK then I would become arrogant
with pride feeling omnipotent.
The reality is one has to travel the path and lose the light of God before reaching true union with him.
Modern psychiatry has confirmed what St John wrote in the 1500’s.
That these steps are absolutely necessary to achieve peace.
This journey is on no map,
no points A, B, C to connect.
All boundaries and time had been blurred and distorted by the abuse.
The following trials are not in any order or time frame.
Every step was painful and had its own pace.
But we can never get over our abuse we can only get through it.
While in the midst of my journey I wrote this,
To know something that once was lost, to feel old feelings long gone away,
They say its good to know, but at what cost?
How terrible the pain of knowing.
I became angry at my own imperfections and sought to become a saint in a day.
Overcoming the thought that it was my fault that the abuse happened,
I then felt that only I was innocent and holy,
and I could not live with the fact that my abuser was locked in the cycle of abuse and possibly lost forever,
That my parents were touched by the evil and lost their innocence by the knowledge of the evil done to me.
This roller coaster of emotions was a necessary step on the path back to Gods light and Love
Then came righteous anger at those who have done evil.
This anger is all consuming, but necessary to go through.
When we go through this anger and finally let it go, you are freed from it.
When entering into the dark night all of these thoughts and feelings are placed in reasonable order and perspective.
This night strengthens and purifies the love that is God but in the beginning you feel abandoned by Him.
Then when all seems lost and the light of God cannot be seen or felt,
and we have shed our wants and forgiven those who have done us harm and let go of our desires,
God shines his light on us and in us
so that we know him and are finally at peace.
In this blissful night
Secretly, no man seeing me,
I seeing nothing,
With no other light or guide
But that which burned in my heart.
And it led me
Surer than the light of the noonday.
Going through the dark night is a terrifying thing to do for a victim of abuse.
Regaining control is an important part of a victim’s journey.
I did not give up control of my childhood voluntarily
it was taken from me.
Control is the abusers main weapon.
But to let God’s light back in to my soul, I needed to have faith and to let go of the facades that were built to protect me as a child.
The facades have outlived their usefulness and the adult now has another hurdle to overcome.
Why give up control again?
Because you have too.
The abuse was in the physical realm.
The relationship with God is in the spiritual.
When deep into the dark night you loose sight of both the spiritual and physical, positive and negative, good and evil.
You are utterly alone.
Nothingness, a forlornness, nakedness, and emptiness
But then when all was lost.
God filled me with light and life.
All of the old questions,
Do I blame God?,
my parents?
Or my abuser became irrelevant
there now is nothing between the Love of God and myself.
Everything that happened to me, led me to the dark night.
Without them I would never have gotten there.
Now, through the night I know myself,
I know God
and I know the world around me.
All is light.
I'm so tired.
I don't know how to get off the roller coaster.
Increasingly, my inner self is at odds with my 'reality'.
Life goes on.
I don't know how to get off the roller coaster.
Increasingly, my inner self is at odds with my 'reality'.
Life goes on.
Too tired tonight to think,
Maybe tommorrow I will tell the story.
What story?
I went to a Halloween party in a 1950 bomb shelter.
More later.
Maybe tommorrow I will tell the story.
What story?
I went to a Halloween party in a 1950 bomb shelter.
More later.
I am typing this from my laptop sitting in my recliner watching the news!
I wish that I could sit here all day and delve into my psyche.
But alas, I must draw plans and go to sleep.
To get up and drive and measure for 12 hours.
Then draw
Then sleep
Then drive..................................ect.
I wish that I could sit here all day and delve into my psyche.
But alas, I must draw plans and go to sleep.
To get up and drive and measure for 12 hours.
Then draw
Then sleep
Then drive..................................ect.
I have not been here for quite some time.
I need to express how and where my life is going on a daily basis.
If not, things bottle up inside as they are right now.
My business has tripled and I can barely handle the load.
Need to hire someone but who?
Bonnie needs to quit her job at the gym but will nopt give it up.
SHe needs adult validation.
I need to not be on the road for 14 hours and come home to chaos!
chices
priorities
I am near exhaustion and I am afraid that the virus will wake up and attack me.
I need to express how and where my life is going on a daily basis.
If not, things bottle up inside as they are right now.
My business has tripled and I can barely handle the load.
Need to hire someone but who?
Bonnie needs to quit her job at the gym but will nopt give it up.
SHe needs adult validation.
I need to not be on the road for 14 hours and come home to chaos!
chices
priorities
I am near exhaustion and I am afraid that the virus will wake up and attack me.
Yahoo! News - Tech Tuesday
I want to go wireles but I have no idea where to start.
I have the money now but cannot pick up the phone to Dell to order my new laptop.
Why?
Why do I hesitate?
Am I overwhelmed?
Having second thoughts?
I am stuck.
I want to go wireles but I have no idea where to start.
I have the money now but cannot pick up the phone to Dell to order my new laptop.
Why?
Why do I hesitate?
Am I overwhelmed?
Having second thoughts?
I am stuck.
To see the Garden still asleep,
No birds are humming,
No bees yet buzz,
The swing hangs still upon the branches,
Like the dew drops that hang from each blade of grass.
The quiet softness of the predawn air,
Surrounds me like my Mothers hugs,
Oh how I wish for this to last!
This perfect time and place!
Safety, warmth and love,
Stops time, if only for a moment.
Too soon forgotten,
Too soon replaced by pain.
Pain.com - A world of information on pain.
I sthe pain back, the virus?
Is it me overdoing it?
Am I bringing the virus back?
Am I an asshole?
Dont answer that last one.
I feel it creeping up on me like a silient Ninja warrior.
I have a large set of tools to fight it now,
So why am I so scared of its return?
Do I feel deep down that I deserve it?
Bad questions lead to bad answers.
I sthe pain back, the virus?
Is it me overdoing it?
Am I bringing the virus back?
Am I an asshole?
Dont answer that last one.
I feel it creeping up on me like a silient Ninja warrior.
I have a large set of tools to fight it now,
So why am I so scared of its return?
Do I feel deep down that I deserve it?
Bad questions lead to bad answers.
mc.clintock.com
THis guy is documenting every material thing in his life.
What for?
Its the emotional things we have that make us happy.
THe love and respect of your spouse,
The unconditional love of your children,
Pain subverts all that,
Blnds you from feeling that Love,
pain collapses your world into a very narrow existance,
Pain becomes your world.
THis guy is documenting every material thing in his life.
What for?
Its the emotional things we have that make us happy.
THe love and respect of your spouse,
The unconditional love of your children,
Pain subverts all that,
Blnds you from feeling that Love,
pain collapses your world into a very narrow existance,
Pain becomes your world.
Can you write poetry in the rain?
Rain brings out the somber poet in me.
I am writing some now and will be ready later.
I love a mellow rainy day.
A day to recover from the parties of life.
Sitting on the porch with a good book or just remembering the fun we had yesterday.
Rain brings out the somber poet in me.
I am writing some now and will be ready later.
I love a mellow rainy day.
A day to recover from the parties of life.
Sitting on the porch with a good book or just remembering the fun we had yesterday.
The Wife and kids are going to Sesame place today. Meeting my sister and Niece there. Bonnie asked if I minded not going and I said no I did not mind. Then she tells me that she is going again on Saturday with our neighbor Roseann. I do mind the second trip for some reason. I gues if my kids go twice they pretty much will have done it all and will not go back. Since these are the only kids I am going to have, I guess I will never go to Sesame place. Do I mind? Part of me does or I would not be writing this. Would I tell them not to go? No I want them to have fun and I will see the pictures.
Off to work
Off to work
Last posts
- The Mystery of Pain ...
- I can't seem to focusor better yet I can't seem to...
- No one who, like me, conjures up the most evil of ...
- Who am I?When I found myself,I did not know if I l...
- The clouds obscure the sun,The darkness of night i...
- fear,panic,nausea,My mind keeps freezing up on me...
- Sitting out front of a house,My first stop of the...
- My PsalmLord of all that is,Of all that is light a...
- Your soul is like an egg shell,it holds your exist...
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