My Words against Yours

When I first heard the word 'relativism' I was sat in a church in the midst of a bible study. It was a concept which I have lived by my entire life. There is no solution to life or death and that there was no absolute way that I should live by.

"As long as I am good and sincere in life, I can be happy"

How about God then? Where does He fall in all of this. Of course my statement above seems to deny the existence of any higher being. Those who have learnt to embrace religion in their lives see me as apathetic, an athiest who could not care less about the existence of a God.  However, I do care about the higher being. However, that higher being is not, to me, God - it's my own consciousness of morals.

[to be continued..]

Waves and Currents

Everyone else's interests are gibberish in my head. I can hear them jabbering on about their lives and their problems but I sit silent. I listen to my breath and watch it condense into vapour and diminish in front of me. If only I could diminish just like that. It's not like I was ever there to begin with.

I open my mouth in preparation for speech but close it again. I have nothing that would interest anyone else. It's like the words died within me; it's like language was depleting in function; it's like everything was dying.

Someone up there obviously hates me. I was so close to ending all of this but yet, having swum half way up that river, a wave came and threw me back onto the banks of the river - back to the start and having to try swimming again but this time bruised and battered.

I watch from the banks how close I really was to the end and how I am so 'lucky to be alive' but I want to keep swimming until I reach the end, and have a current pull me under, drown me. But I must swim away from everyone and leave on my own and overcome the currents which push me back and the people who have tied ropes around my ankles to pull me back. It's a journey I want so badly to commit to and in time, will be able to.

I hope that undercurrent is still as strong as ever

I have run myself into a Corner

If you visualise a corner in your head, there are physical aspects which make it a corner:

1. it consists of three surfaces which meet at a particular point

2. it needs three edges to converge at this point

Three surfaces + three edges = one point (one corner)

three + three = ONE

So I have turned a visual conception into a numerical one and, oh, now it doesn't add up. Maybe I'm thinking too much into it. Maybe I should just forget about the surfaces and the edges and just think of the corner - just that one lonely corner. It is moreover, what I was trying to draw your attention to. Fixate on the corner and let that visualisation you had of it before ebb away until all you are left with is the concept of that corner. It is just a point in space where other physical aspects meet (the surfaces and the edges) but when I think of it as just a point I feel that I have de-physicalised it just as how we can dephysicalise emotions. If only I could physicalise emotions though then it would be so easy to make sense of. Maybe if I could physicalise it, I could embrace it or I could pick it up and throw it against the wall and make it shatter into a million pieces. If only I could make sense of it and say that it consisted of three edges and three corners, or six edges and six corners.

But apparently, and unfortunately, I can't.

Philip Larkin

He makes sense of nonsense.

Snow is Calling

It was freezing on the rooftop of the apartment. There was undeniable proof that we were in the midst of a very cold winter - snow layered heavily on the cement I was standing on and yet my sisters ran around screaming in excitement. You see, they have never seen snow before and were in awe at its existence.

As they formed distorted snowmen which were all slightly bent over to one side and threw hard snow balls at each other, I stood, cold and tired, trying very hard not to keel over from the cold. I look up. It was starting to snow again.

More snow.

My sisters shrieked and screamed in excitement at the sight of more snow. I could not be any less overjoyed. What a horrible thought - the thought of more snow, more snow to later melt into water only to turn into ice. I sigh as I watch my sisters take joy in what I found most depressing.

If only they knew what it was like for me.

It's 2.40am in the morning and I'm sitting in front of my laptop wondering what else I could possibly type

think, think, think

Ahh...maybe the world might want to know about my world. My world isn't all that varied - it's rather small and constrained.

Wait...constrained or restrained? Or possibly just strained?

I'm living in an emotional cage where anger grips at its bars and tries to shake the whole thing to pieces but never able to. The best it can do is claw at the air through the metal railings - never able to grab hold onto anything or break free from the cage. A frustrating reality in which I, together with my anger, watch the world walk by us while we stand still behind bars.

Oh sad life. How did it come to this?

Oh right. I remember now: I put myself in here.

A Slap from God

Can't you see you're crazy?

No. I can't

Halted in Action

Gym and iPod. It's like nothing could stop me.

Pedaling hard as I wanted, heart pounding against my chest.

Nothing could possibly stop me

I saw a girl walk by with a towel thrown over her shoulders.She looked like she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She seemed so perfect and so controlled.

I stopped pedalling altogether

With my iPod still on, my eyes followed this perfect creature as she made her way to the weights machine. She lifted her arms to grab on to the handles and the towel falls off - she was so perfect - shoulders, wrist, arms were perfect.

I could see most of her story in her face. She did not have any emotions on her face; all she had were the prominently bulging features which followed such perfection. I envied her and watched as she lividly attempted to pull the handle down. As I expected, she was not able to but yet she tried and tried until she managed to do it.

At this point, I had abandoned all realisation that I was sitting on a pedalling machine gaping at this girl of perfection. Realities of the noisy gym and the many other people around me had died away into another subconscious and I only had eyes for her. How is she doing it? How did she manage to get into this shape?

How did I do it before?

The iPod suddenly blares loudly into my ears. It was then that reality came round. Stupid iPod. Why must you be so touch-sensitive. I looked down and saw that it had already gone through at least three songs and it was now playing a song called "Out of my Mind". Looking up I saw that the perfect girl had walked off to the cross trainer. I also saw a lot of other people looking at her as she made her way there. I knew that they in fact were not in awe at her perfection like I was. Instead, they were staring, shocked, at her unnaturally petit stature - a stature I called perfection.

Hoovering up that Sock

The hoover glugged and sputtered at some point and I looked down to see it sucking up one side of my sock. No point saving it now. What an idiot I am to not even notice that fucking sock. I wasn't looking was I?

It's just an analogy of my life - not looking at what I am doing. Forever engulfed in something else and forever neglecting the thing that mattered most (not that my sock mattered much to me..but what good is one sock?).

Engulfed

It was eating me alive from the inside out, diminishing my ability to notice everything else and yet I let it devour me completely. It's like that sock..so important to stay as a pair but yet sucked up the hoover into a dusty pit due to my lack of attention - always too busy, always too ignorant. That sock..no longer any use to me.

Devoured

I look down at that one sock and think "oh sad times; I can't use it anymore". I've rendered it useless. I picked it up and  flung it to the back of my cupboard, knowing that I'd probably never use it again.

Of Literary Appreciations and Days wandering around on My Own

It didn't seem apparent to me while I was on my own how deep a grave I had dug for myself. It didn't seem real. In fact, nothing did at that point.

I watched myself in the reflection of the water of the pond

Oh distortion

Nothing was real. No. Nothing was real at all

The world was a mere shadow and my belittled mind was the only thing within my conscious range. I could see in a distance a light but I turned away from it one too many times.

Now I look back at it and ask: Why could I not have followed it?

I am in the light now but I'm searching for the shadow. Am I deranged to want to go back? Possibly. But I liked it - When you're in the shadows, you didn't have to care about the world, you didn't have to put up with the billions of stimuli from the outside world; you didn't have to feel. Oh the ecstasy of having no feeling!

I wandered around on my own and now I am surrounded by others..but yet, I still try to wander off into the shadows..alone....

It's Gnawing at Me