January 2010 Archives

In Absence of Love

Alone is a simple enough word to comprehend, but for some of us it is a fact of life. We linger in a world without the recognition of our opposite sex and we only find solace in our dreams.

In our dreams, we remember the touch of a woman, but it is only an illusion. When we stir from our slumber, awakening to reality, we are again confronted by how utterly incomplete our existence has become.
In the absence if a female touch; a feminine perspective; a soft voice to soothe the spirit; I do not feel as though I have been deprived of contact with another. I feel as though a part of myself has been removed. I feel naked and afraid.

My logic tells me that it will only be for awhile longer and then all will be restored, but my heart longs for love in such a way that this day, this moment, this very second of suffering may very well last an eternity.
The world may come to an end and I will be left floundering in a perpetual state of solitude.

I pray always that the sun may rise and set swiftly before I turn to stone; that I will look up from my lowly state one day soon to find freedom just over a green hill. The question is not will I receive, but do I deserve the love for which I long. Some of you say no, that I am a criminal and I am in receipt of my requisite fate.

You are entitled to you own opinion, but please reconsider on these grounds. Until you have stood here in my shoes and experienced his life of confinement, until you have felt the immense weight of your very soul reach forth from within in an attempt to tear you asunder, do not pass judgment on me.

Until you have dwelt in absence of love, do not ever wish such a fate on another. Love is too important to the healing process. Love is the only bond that can unite the divided and to force its absence upon anyone, for whatever reason, is to be viewed in my eyes as cruel and unusual punishment.

Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

Shifting Tides

I am driven to the edge by feelings of anger and lust which consume me. Filled with shame and guilt, betrayed by a future that may only come to pass as a product of madness. Should such a price be paid that freedom of mind can only be gained by complete and utter denial of that which lies dormant within myself,--that which is innate and vital to the very core of my existence?

Am I to believe that all I have ever felt must be discarded and forgotten?
Where is the honor in that?
What is the truth?
By whose laws do I persist in the world and whose will is it that my unchosen path seems to resist?
If all that is real can only be manifest at the total dissolution of myself then am I insane not to long for some solemn gesture of retreat back into the dream? Should I not loathe my awakening?

Is that not the paradox which faces every man seeking answers in the waning hours of the night? Once awakened to the light, you can never again escape into the twilight like the shadows of the early morning occurring just before the sun is born into the day.

To fight what 'is' no longer presents itself as a choice. The rules that governed your progress have been destroyed. You fate is no longer written in the stars. You are free!
Lifting your head up and moving forward is all that remains. Yesterday is gone and you must realize that the keys to tomorrow can only be acquired before the setting of our most local star. Who is it that has lost his way?
Who is it that is crossing the threshold and now sees his path?

Is denying the self for the benefit of the many really all that different from denying the many for the benefit of the self? At the climax of all things, was there truly ever any difference at all?

Our minds foolishly stricken with duality, our perception is flawed. Consciousness could not perceive itself and so we are divided. So, here we are at last. Why?
There is nothing...
But I still don't understand. Don't worry, we weren't meant to understand.
Just be as you are and follow the shifting tides of you mind.

Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

The Only Way

I guess that on some level I have always understood how impossible it is to save everyone, but only recently have I come to realize the utter futility of what is wrong, but I cannot fix it. We must all come to grips with our own fate. We must fend for ourselves in a world full of wolves.

Each one of us has a quest to fulfill, a setback to overcome and a decision to make. We are all born into a dream and you can only be awakened of your own accord. There is no help to be had by another, One is one and not other. Amongst a world of many ,we are alone on our journey.

The answers we seek can only be sought within, and any attempt to assist another will only cripple them in the long run. If I take your suffering upon myself, then I deprive you of a lesson you were meant to learn. Life does not make mistakes. Life is without remorse, and life's lessons will not be denied! We are always offered lessons in the lightest capacity. Our problem is we ignore them and in so doing force a stronger event to be set in motion.

Our eyes are sewn shut, our ears are plugged up and our hearts are encased in stone. We are pawns to the outside world, to our families , to our friends, to society and most all to our chosen God.

We refuse to accept what we have created, and always we blame others in the place of ourselves. We seek escape at every turn in the maze driven by panic, anger and fear. We are lost, but eventually we will find the way. Eventually we will realize the truth. Eventually we will learn to help ourselves.
It is not one way. It is the only way and all paths will lead to it.....................eventually.

Jeheshua

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW

Between the Lines

Over the years I have learned to express myself through my writing and I like to think of myself as good. However, this ability is not something which can be turned on at will. It is beyond me in a sense. When my pen touches paper, something happens which is not wholly of myself, but which is not all together different. What happens is a thing of beauty, a gift, and a total surprise. It is something that exists in absence of my control, and until now, I have never made an attempt to explain it.

You see, I, myself, understand what is going on in the subtext of this story. After all, who better to arrange a director's cut than the director? However, to make you understand will take some work. So please consider this to be an attempt to that end and have some level of understanding for I am new to this branch of writer's scope (introspection).
Words do not just form out of thin air, despite the use of my tools, pen and paper, I do not claim to have molded them in the same way that a sculptor molds a piece of clay into a statue.

What happens is something closer to that of a duet or a collaboration of sorts. To the majority of the world the only possible truth of story composition (or composition in general) is that I, the author, have created, out of my own mind, an original and totally self oriented piece of writing, but nothing could be further from the truth. True, I did not copy someone else's word in order to pass them off as my own. However, I wouldn't describe my writing as creating. A musician doesn't create music. In reality, the music already exists. All he does is rearrange the notes to exist in harmony with one another. My gift is the same. My pen and paper are instruments, the forum of language is the scale of notes and my finished essays, poems, et cetera are songs. They are songs of the mind.

Which brings us to another question. If I did not create these songs , then whose mind did?

My answer is very simple.........."You did" . Sounds crazy, right? Do you know why that sounds crazy? I sounds because your thought matrix cannot process it in the same context that I am explaining it. In your linear brain construct things are self-sustaining and separate. Time seems to move in a straight line, but in reality things are more complex.

What's your "perfect world"?
LPW