The Truth only is welcome, when we can make it serve us (A whiskey Lamentation)

Mo Anam Cara…..

What Say you

Everyone seeks a herald of the truth, or a would be earnest keeper, that would serve us best. However, should it reveal our vices, or be some oculist to ensure clarity of  our being, then we fear it would reveal… Us

This endless merry go round… our need of the truth of us to be known.. and at any given moment… the devastation we will wrought.. to ensure, such truth will never come to be.

We ache.. fear.. long.. beg.. lament.. terrorize… wish for… destroy … ache … ruin… hide from…  sabotage… and surrender to… all for the same

THE TRUTH … OF US.

may we never know it… may others break us for it..

But either way.. may we know peace… 

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However you see it in this moment,(Truth) you will never see it that way again.

All our lives we battle our own perspectives. Either it is a desperate rally to cut through the lines of confusion and doubt to see the truth of what we have denied as truth. Or Some harrowing defense to stave off the truth, so we never face it, no matter what price we may pay.

But…  sometimes… we are not the arbiter of our moment of seeing the truth. be it of us, or of something so profound it reveals us..

Sometimes… Life just unleashes Truth upon us.. and we are laid waste by the force of its yield.

We sit the .. our world no more than cinder and ash.. we sit bewildered and confused.

We eventually haphazardly grope at ourselves… to see if all the pieces of us are there…

some times they are.. some times they aren’t.

Slowly we struggle to are feet, and try to find direction, if there is one to find at all, but we are forever changed. We will never see the truth the same way again.

 

 

Taking the Hits, Because you can.

via Taking the Hits, Because you can.   

The pain that comes when you trust that in the end, people will be true to who they are, and not what we wanted them to be.

“It was not what we knew or when we knew.. it was always them, it was and always be who they were, who they will be… sometimes we understand this .. sometimes we do not ..” Nothing can ever Haunt us like Our own Echo.

What Say you

We always want things to work out in the way that we put are minds too, when those people which we anchor that precious state of love and trust upon, so we can assuage our worries and doubts, and seek our hopes and dreams.

They can be Sibling or spouse, parent or paramour, oldest friend, fiance, or would be true love.

We want, we need .. for them to be the persistent and resolute place, that we take to for solace, comfort or hide from the world, they should be a place of strength, a beacon in the dark, to guide us, put us back on the path, give us purpose and most of all the one and true bastion of trust where we never fear betrayal or be failed.

Yet…

We come to know better.

We desperately need to believe we are wrong…  but we know the truth. This…

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What became of that person before I became what I have come to be.

Are we capable of learning any lesson we teach ourselves, or are they the only ones we ever can?

What Say you

We know who we are, or , at least we should, and any given moment that we do, that knowing is bound in who we were, in the where we have come from.

Now this seems a perilous conundrum, rife with unneeded complexity. Yet when that codex is deciphered, It should yield some understandable clues that we can solve the puzzle of us by and large.

This is not what I speak to now.

I am talking about those times when we Know full well, exactly who we are, but we become so fixed on what that means to us, we read into it again , and again,  something else, we literally redefine ourselves in the blindness of our truth, till we are…

not ourselves at all.

The damage is then done…  the simulacrum that has replaced that we knew ourselves to be, Stares at us from the mirror of…

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This Is not about me, it is simply a reminder of the struggle of those who have and will suffer Depression.

via On suicide.

Learning to cope, written Febuary 22, 2009. (Excerpt from 10,000 Sleepless Nights.)

The moment this was written, I did so to demonstrate what I could say, in an instant, about what was taking place inside me, I did not realize how prophetic my arrogance would prove.

What Say you

Learning to cope…

Memory has its own identity, and we struggle each time we learn this anew.

         We can recall the nature of our own life in the countless reminiscence of all we have known.

Yet there are times when so powerful are the events that alter every course of our being, that in a single stroke of fate’s merciless pen our every memory are redefined.

All we may recall is recast, every binding emotion torn asunder, and at once, who we were in our memories is no longer us at all.

Memories of Love become regret, devotion becomes purposeless toil, kindness is now is mocking placation.

We remember being part of something;

No, we only realize we were just simply there, as we are now.

Alone.

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I remember everything…. I always do… (the agony of a Savant … who lost love against a tyrant’s comfort)

You should take comfort in both comfort in forgetting and ignorance.. they serve the soul well

What Say you

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Some things Cant be real.. ever…

via Of all the things we wished .. we wish most for what wishes were made for all along.

I am still Here, But where is that Anyway?

I know where I need to be, even if I am not there yet.

What Say you

In what I allowed to become an endless process of self reflection, perpetual incantations of self actualization, and countless introductions to introspection. I found that I had via chronological GPS and emotional signal triangulation found had myself in the most fixed and certain of point of who I was and exactly where I was In this place I called my Life.

And I had no damned Idea where the hell that was after all.

Surprisingly, this was neither vexing, or as it turns out much of a surprise.. it was much more of a classic “Well…Shit” Sam Moment that as it turns out was rule here and not the exception.

I feel that it is of personal importance that I draw no lines of relativity here, it seems I have an overbearing sense of propriety selfishness in this moment. That this metamorphic journey to absolute “well, that was stupid” be mine to covet.

Then a thought occurred to me.. And then, even…

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