posted on Jul, 17 2009 @ 08:26 PM
Familiar territory and familiar friends. Depression and Misery are almost glad to see me. If they were capable of happiness, I swear they would
The old familiar feeling of relief to find myself on familiar ground.
The heart beats cold in a breast which is empty and void, except for the forlorn presence of the heart.
The heart is grey and barren. A desolate landscape in which to wander. A true Wasteland.
The yearnings have become unbearable. The cold little heart strains at the leash. Only one thing will pacify it. Its true love. The one thing left in
the world it can respond to. The one thing in the world it cannot have. Dream of yachts and jewels if you must, they may be attainable. But the lost
love is lost forever. Stubbornly it refuses to come back. Stubbornly, the heart refuses to believe it. Cold and stubborn. A rejected heart that used
to beat warm and in harmony with the beloved. Now it beats coldly and in slow motion.
The tears are hot and bitter, they run like rivers over the cold wastes of the heart. The water fails to nourish or revive. It scores the landscape
which dies a little more with each shower of pain. Tiny drops, the harbingers of floods to come. Raging out of control and storming. Turning to great
floes of ice over the cold terrain. The heat gone, to be replaced by numbness. Comforting numbness, until the next tirade.
These are your surroundings, the ground on which you walk. The atmosphere which permeates your every thought and dream. The coldness underlies your
attitude to life itself. There is nothing inside, and all you find reflected on the outside is the same nothing. Nothing there for you, ever.
And yet you fooled yourself. Let yourself flirt with happiness. Short-lived happiness, which lifted you above yourself. Warmed the empty spaces in
your heart. Filled them until they came alive. Then fled, and left you with emptier empty spaces. Such emptiness as could never be imagined. Only
experienced. So empty and yet so resoundingly full. Of longings. Longings so long they stretch to the end of the Universe and back. Never to be
fulfilled. An ache that will stretch to Eternity.
You cry each night, determined to empty yourself of all the grief. But grief comes in a Cornucopia, a Horn of Plenty. It never runs dry. You drain the
cup each night, and by morning it is replenished. Grief invites you to drink of it every day of your existence. All too often you have an excuse to
accept its invitation.
The fear is not of dying. It is of the consequences of tking ones own life.
How immoral is it to break the strand?
How many different ways can the strand be broken?
Does it have to be death alone?
It is possible to live whilst divorced from life
You simply suspend all yor feelings. Store them in a cold heart and just suffer hell when they break loose
And break loose they eventually do. Every bloody, stinking, miserable day. To make up for the time in cold storage
Even your body has rebelled. It cannot take the strain of the misery of the emotions. It gives up. It threatens you with illness and disease
You cannot live in it any more, but you cannot die. Eventually the pain becomes too much to bear. So you heal the body in order to live more
comfortably. But the emotions still live on in the heart, and thrive. Thrive now in the cold. Grow large and unruly. And stalk across the heart like
Gods. They stride fearlessly over the ice. They drink in the tears. The tears have finally found something to nourish
Despair, Misery, Depression, Unhappiness and Grief-for-what-might-have-been prosper
Confidence, Love and Warmth wither
But who prospers the most? Compassion. Hard won Compassion. Impossible to achieve without personal suffering
But who lost the battle? Strength. The greatest of your companions. Sapped now and on its knees. Defeated by the forces of Despair
The war in the heart is over. The cold claims all the territories. All the little warm pockets have frozen over forever. No seeds left to plant.
No good soil in which to plant them
All this to win Compassion. Is it worth it?
Compassion looks and sees misery all around. Looks out at the world and sees suffering, which isn't confined to your own heart.
Compassion sees it everywhere. And longs to help. But cannot
Despair is a Country with no boundaries
Look around any day and you can find yourself there
Admittance is free, and there is no passport control
They require only one thing of you - you must be at the end of your endurance
You must have been expelled from everywhere else and have no place else to go
Then you are in Despair
Once you are there they are loth to let you go
Indeed you cannot go. There is no easy way out of Despair
You enter Despair naked and alone
Your armour of Strength and Endurance has been lost in the battle with life
Your Sense of Humour was mortally wounded too. It died with your Pride.
Confidence was lost early on. Without that the others soon capitulated.
All that is left is you. No-one makes you more welcome than Despair. You feel you could stay there forever. You want to stay there forever.
If you ever left, you would have to take up the battle to regain your Strength and all the other lost qualities
But you don't need them anymore. You are so comfortable in Despair. One day you will become so comfortable you will die of it.
No will to do anything any more
That's fine. All that is left is to die
To die in Despair.
Alone on this mighty Planet of Misery and Pain.
Alone in this body, looking inward and facing Pain.
Loneliness and Pain.
A marriage made in Hell.
Hell is cold.
Hell is a cold place where we all suffer Alone.
Life is Hell on Earth.
Cold Hell reflected in a cold Planet.
And you are caught in the middle.
Look outward at Pain.
Look inward at Pain.
Live in Pain.
Wallow in Pain.
Come to recognise Pain as an old friend.
Take my hand Pain, you were the only one to accompany me in my Loneliness.
When all the rest of the World had forgotten me, you were there.
You're never alone with Pain.
Pain is generous, he shares his friends with you.
First he introduces you to Misery.
Then you are three. Three in Hell. Together.
You. And pain. And Misery.
The three musketeers. You will see each other through thick and thin. Pain and Misery are loyal friends. They will never let you suffer alone.
They are always there with you.
I love you Pain and Misery, because when the rest of the World had forgotten me, you were there for me.