27

27
[Aug. 29th, 200808:50 pm]
Once again i find myself in a dimly lit coffee shop, huddled over the glow of this screen; a bike ride in the wind, the night is navy blue and the air is moist with a cold mist that tells me that my twenty fourth fall is officially upon me. I ride alone; an adventure back to a place the spring within me wanted to forver leave behind...yet I can't stop myself from returning; the parenthesis of melancholy madness beckoning me to climb back into my bubble of sadness. I wonder if it's just the spirit of the season that makes one long for sickness or merely some primordial willing within me to stand in the sadness I need to soak my feet in in order to feel like myself. I need to return to this place in order to figure out what this silent illness beneath my summer skin consists of, what the source of this pain is that resides within me still.
I need to put the hot lamp in the culprit's face and make him sweat under the light until he confessess to all the ways he's been condemning my soul to plight.

There's an animal within all of us, a criminal within all of us, there's a poet within all of us, there's a lover within all of us. we simple minded humans dichotomize the identities within our individual selves, to be accurate in our classification we would need to recognize the reality that accompanies any pursuit of accurately identifying the multiude of selves withint our bones and skin...for it would truly be an idiot's mission to set out to finally catch up with infinity.Hesse saw two voices, two beings in himself; the wolf and the sad lonely man, only to realize what a fool he was for assuming his insides could be so simply dichotomized, a wolf, and a man; mere words to label, feeble attempts to conceptualize the conflicting people we are from moment to moment, that lead to inward battles that seemingly will never cease so long as we're still striving starvers.

I ask myself why I can love her some mornings, some nights, and why her aches and pains can mean nothing to me when I hold her tightly while she screams; all the different ways her presence has felt to me.... some days I am hollow and empty, and on these days the achievements that amaze me when I am intellectual seem like impossible feats. I ask myself why I can't bring myself to love her in the morning; I ask myself why I can't bring myself to speak to her on the phone in the same loving tone that she's grown accustomed to..at least on days when my heart has her say, days when her voice is louder than any of the other savages' screams within me. Freud saw that there were three motivational forces within us, three beings; the animal, the conformist, and the manager. Schopenhauer saw that there was only one true thing within us; the will, that which desires, that which desires not; the voice of need, the yearning, the bunring desire to hold or to avoid...to him then, it was pretty simple, there are stimulus, there are situations, and the will knows what it wants, it either says yes or no to cetain things...i want, or I don't want.....you feel it in the morning when you force yourself to wake from sleep and are grumpy...that's the will's way of saying, 'dammit man let me sleep!'....But the smarter we get, the more rational and moral we become, the less connected we become with our true voice, our true yearning....we become interpreter's of a foreign language, relying on emotion and feeling mostly to signify what path the truth within us really has in mind.So then, what can I learn from these men in my current plight?...well, absolutely nothing. i am dealing with my own real life. If I am to understand...which is a meaningless, tragic pursuit anyway (understanding that is), that never fails to leave one in a state of isolation; understanding is loneliness. Loving with the heart is happiness...but happiness gets boring, and you start to wonder what it is that your brain has been ignoring in pursuit of simpler pleasures, more bodily pleasures.

I begin to dissect the urges within me when she tells me she just wants me to believe that I belong, when she tells me that she just wants to be able to stay close to me. I being to listen closely to the voices arguing inside the walls, streteched out skin over a framework of bones., I press my ear to the wall and listen to the urges in an attempt to decipher the various aching animals and intellectuals trapped within my soul. I then begin to label the beings as they appear to me in an attempt to paint the picture of the civil war constantly occurring within me; a thousand individual's crammed into a one bedroom apartment located in the center of my chest.

Anyone who's ever cared enough to think about why they feel, or what it is that they feel and ultimately believe in will know the difficulty of attempting to hear what the voices are saying when their constantly talking over top of one another and interupting eachother.I shall call my body's meanest little ugly cell dweller, the Ego, for I know the sound of his angry voice which rings with entitlement as it echoes of these little walls. His biggest foe is my heart.... the war is always occuring between him and her, the two of them like one time lovers who had too many children before they had the means to provide for all of them. Now they just argue in their little crowded apartment, despising their existence with each new day which destroys all hope for resolution upon the very moment they wake from sleep into their little hell of conflicting ideals. Oh my female heart; female, stereotypically only, for the way she is so eager to love and to hold, to give everything away to and to nurture all that feels pure. The ego refuses to overlook that which she would gladly turn a blind eye to if it meant she could just bring a child to laughter, or hold onto the one she loved for as long as she wanted to. The civil war within; leaves me breathless and speechless,.....
My attempts to articulate to her the suffering of this struggle could never suffice to bring about clarity. I just want to run and hide from her, walk over the bridge and let her watch me die, then my heart says no no no, she will cry. To think, that the ego, so proud, so hurt and wounded from his wife doesn't even see, would be willing to burn down the very building he calls his home. And what can she do to calm him down? And what can she do to make this ending happy for him?...She can do nothing. He can do nothing. The state of things shall remain. Things are the way they are, thus, he is left to dwell in his own little hell for as long as she continues to tell him she loves him, for as long as he continues to wish that he could believe her. Me and her that is, not the talk between my tiny voices.
What makes it so hard, so impossibile for me to feel like I can have you? even as I type it out... the ego within me wishes to write, 'it is a foolish question to even ask since it is blatantly clear that her heart is never anything you could fully possess';... despite her insistence on the devoted nature of her love for me. The ego within me refuses to believe, all the while my heart, she tugs on the ego's sleeve from pant from her knees, too weak and wobbly with loneliness to stand she pleads for him to allow her to escape this hell that they'll surely share with one another until the day the body they both reside within will die. 'Please' she pleads, 'I swear this one means every word she speaks', he says 'no, regardless of the beauty she can sometimes speak, I refuse to let my baby bleed, not for someone who has already given her life away to another man.' He is such a proud man the ego, an alcoholic who loves his own story too much to let it be taken over by a picture he has laughed at others for painting themselves into. He insists on not allowing me to be a fool like we have thought those others to be... he tells me to look at the road I'm on with honest rational eyes, to cover my ears the next time I'm within range of her passional loving cries,...he tells me , 'close your eyes when she lets you inside her house and tries to trap you in her gaze until the moments leading up have unified the both of you. The proud ego and the lonely heart have a friend; the perceiver who sees...yesterday he saw the source of the shadow that's been sheathing this body in a sorrow since he met her, since the heart decided to love her; there on the grass, a real life body carting around the one they'll forever share with one another. The baby that ties her closer to another man, so the ego within me will apparantly always believe; He will never allow me to forgive her fully for her ties to another man, for even the heart's most persuasive arguments can only temporarilly sway the jury within my ego, for the contradictions that such a life she argues for ensure the impossibility of ever silencing the members given their rudimentary principles, their rules of integrity so to speak....... freedom, pride, desire, rationality, independence above all else. The jury within my ego, they always ultimately return with the same verdict....return to your slow burning in solitude; grow a beard as testament to the lack of feelings you hold for social fires...as testament to your lack of suitability for any normal role within this city you see when you roam these streets....one day you will die, but at least the fire of loneliness and lovelessness will have hung inside right until the bitter end....My heart cries, 'but what about her?'...can she not come with us, she is a true friend....' The ego pounds down with his wooden hammer, and sternly sentences my heart to die, on a day undetermined in the not to distant future....'It is with me and only me that you will ever find yourself in company!....She will trick you foolish heart....she will destroy our house and home; our family name will go down in shame....a sulky stepfather who'll swear to love another's child in order to remain close to the one that you claim to love! YOU foolish heart have grown so accustomed to need her in every way, to long for her ears to hear the words we say, without her we no longer see the purpose in anything!...oh what a fool you have tried to make of me!...Of this home we share!!... Loving and longing for her body with such an infantile dependency!....look what she has made of this place we share.....A step father?...is that not where this road will lead?....an unappreciated sucker who protects other treasures and swears he will shine another man's shoes...and for what?....all because of your love....should we place your love above everything else?....FOOLISH HEART....I sentence you to death.'