T-Space: Rant March 7th 1999

sometimes it strikes me full on,

the emptiness, sullen, grave, unspoken of

some days it tears into my heart

writhes and battles with other things

sometimes i can forget,

forget and happily be a part of something

unnerving, unmoving, untouching

a part of some greater motion,

some simplicity in life. convincing,

always convincing.

how can so many people be so wrong,

how can it not be me who is mistaken, in the face of so many?

why is it that i know, for me i am right, yet

that knowledge is much less convincing than the reality that surrounds me?

and then sometimes it strikes me full on.

wakes me up, kicks me, hits me, slaps me,

til, for just that instance i realize i am nothing!

some days i wish i could run, wish i had it in me,

want only to detach myself from this place called home,

from the familiarity, as if the unknown might keep me on my toes.

stop that meaningless battle, the lust the desire, the need for

PERFECTION

without the guts to take it and run

WHO AM I?

why is it?

what feeds this pain? this restlessness?

this needless dissatisfaction?

need to drift, to change, to grow upon myself,

need to love, to feel, to tear myself apart?

irrationally dissatisfied?

a feeble way to surpass my fears?

my fears are real, as the pain would be, but isn't

WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?

for truthfully it is i, not the world i live in,

that is faulty, it is i in my naivety and my endless search for something,

a search, it seems, i wish to complete from the comfort of my world,

from a nice apartment, in a nice place, with a nice job, and nice friends,

in the midst of that i want to challenge these niceties, i want right not nice,

but i am trapped in nice!

yes

my fears are real, as the pain would be, but isn't

in an instant!

again it arises, the doubt.

for so long convinced that there was noone for me,

i guess convenience bade me remain alone. myself,

invincible me.

but as they say, no pain no gain,

me alone, me, noone, me

i think i thought for a while, as solitude got to my sanity,

that there was noone there for me, or at least at the moment,

with no unknowns it is unlikely that you will be surprised,

let alone shocked into life and love.

yet, when unknowns find their way into my life,

a moment passes, and i find myself as vulnerable as ever,

in an instant!

not just vulnerable, more,

desiring, wanting nothing more than to let go,

to feel the pain, the vulnerability,

the emotions, be surprised,

in an instant!

i could write some corny passionate piece,

but i'm not in a passionate mood,

i could reminisce over the glory of love,

but i'm not in a reminiscing mood,

i could talk for hours about schism of being,

but i'm not in a philosopical mood,

i could mention briefly how restless i feel,

for i am in a restless mood.

i could sit, i think hand in hand, right now, under the stars and the moon, i could go on for hours about all the things that mean something to me, chat away, at last someone to talk to, someone to listen to, someone to share with this strange outlook on life, that at times brings with it a lostness, a solitude, a desire to change, that i can't fullfill.

i could do all these things if only you were here.

<<< previous \| next>>>		index worth while favourites why? me guestbook search


		march 7th1999
it's a strange life after all....
sometimes it strikes me full on, the emptiness, sullen, grave, unspoken of some days it tears into my heart writhes and battles with other things sometimes i can forget, forget and happily be a part of something unnerving, unmoving, untouching a part of some greater motion, some simplicity in life. convincing, always convincing. how can so many people be so wrong, how can it not be me who is mistaken, in the face of so many? why is it that i know, for me i am right, yet that knowledge is much less convincing than the reality that surrounds me? and then sometimes it strikes me full on. wakes me up, kicks me, hits me, slaps me, til, for just that instance i realize i am nothing! some days i wish i could run, wish i had it in me, want only to detach myself from this place called home, from the familiarity, as if the unknown might keep me on my toes. stop that meaningless battle, the lust the desire, the need for PERFECTION without the guts to take it and run WHO AM I? why is it? what feeds this pain? this restlessness? this needless dissatisfaction? need to drift, to change, to grow upon myself, need to love, to feel, to tear myself apart? irrationally dissatisfied? a feeble way to surpass my fears? my fears are real, as the pain would be, but isn't WHAT AM I DOING WRONG? for truthfully it is i, not the world i live in, that is faulty, it is i in my naivety and my endless search for something, a search, it seems, i wish to complete from the comfort of my world, from a nice apartment, in a nice place, with a nice job, and nice friends, in the midst of that i want to challenge these niceties, i want right not nice, but i am trapped in nice! yes my fears are real, as the pain would be, but isn't in an instant! again it arises, the doubt. for so long convinced that there was noone for me, i guess convenience bade me remain alone. myself, invincible me. but as they say, no pain no gain, me alone, me, noone, me i think i thought for a while, as solitude got to my sanity, that there was noone there for me, or at least at the moment, with no unknowns it is unlikely that you will be surprised, let alone shocked into life and love. yet, when unknowns find their way into my life, a moment passes, and i find myself as vulnerable as ever, in an instant! not just vulnerable, more, desiring, wanting nothing more than to let go, to feel the pain, the vulnerability, the emotions, be surprised, in an instant! i could write some corny passionate piece, but i'm not in a passionate mood, i could reminisce over the glory of love, but i'm not in a reminiscing mood, i could talk for hours about schism of being, but i'm not in a philosopical mood, i could mention briefly how restless i feel, for i am in a restless mood. i could sit, i think hand in hand, right now, under the stars and the moon, i could go on for hours about all the things that mean something to me, chat away, at last someone to talk to, someone to listen to, someone to share with this strange outlook on life, that at times brings with it a lostness, a solitude, a desire to change, that i can't fullfill. i could do all these things if only you were here.
quote of the[insert arbitrary period of time here]: Marshall Mc Luhan: "All art is in a sense, magical in that it produces a change or metamorphosis in the spectator."	currently reading: Various Authors: "Legends"

it's a strange life after all....