A Journal of Sorts
"there were nights when the wind was so cold that my body froze in bed if I just listened to it right outside the window" ~ Jim Steinman ~ |
sometimes there's just no getting around the boredom of life when nobody is around to share it... as resourceful (or crazy) as my imagination gets, my desire to share never quits and has been hungry for so long there's no describing it any more... and I call myself a writer... la la la... astute readers have asked me why I am still alone when my hunger to share everything drives me to extremes... rationalizing, I can say it is because I want to share too much and I have yet to meet anyone who wants to share as I do... everything, all the time... but there is more... I believe in ideals that do not seem to fit into the world today and finding another who believes is not easy... but there's more... actualizing... actually living up to the ideals... practicing what is preached... not just saying it, but doing it... words like honesty, integrity, loyalty, devotion, virtue, honor, altruism, unconditional love and trust in the human heart, and doing as ittle harm as possible... these are more than words to me, they are my way of life... and I falter... once upon a time I loved up to my ideals so much better than I do today... I was younger, more hopeful, more idealistic in practival realities.. then... promises broken, words unspoken... trusting and believing in people who betrayed my trust to nigthmarish proportions left me disillusioned, jaded, faded... shades of favorite show songs come to mind... . o O ( can you find them? ) O o . once I would use no product that was even tested on an animal, no less that was once part of an animal... that was ethical peace, though some physical pleasures were confused and inhibited... sharing such an ethically esthetic life was a religious experience that made up for the physical pleasures... and then survival literally demanded I make a choice and I chose to eat what was offered... and these days I am feeding my physical pleasures, taste buds rule over ethics... it is an internal dilemma, but sharing would resolve it... I am so hungry to share I will sell my soul, my ethics, my ideals... well, probably not my ideals... that's always been the obstacle... honesty... I will not lie to myself... I will challenge myself (and therein I challenge anyone sharing intimacy with me) to live up to the ideals... faced with a choice between hypocrisy and purity, I have always chosen purity when sharing no matter how far from a pure path I wander (or sink, or fall) when I am alone too long... alone too long... a man alone too long... who wrote it?... how does it go?... this is a major obstacle in renewing sharing... so many iconic pieces, so many luterary and musical representations of who I am and how I feel and what I've been through that makes me all I am... all gone today... decades of collecting quotes, poems, stories, songs, art, and other creativity that defined and filled in the puzzle that is me... so many dimensions are now missing... colors... words that expressed my ideals, experiences, hopes, dreams, and all I strived to actualize... and my life had an ongoing and ever evolving soundtrack... it is gone... silence remains... it is a cold, cruel, empty reality I find myself in today... a barren landscape... a silent storm... if I could explain it better, I would... that is why I continue comng back to try again... babbling is not all fun and games, ya know... |
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