Sunday, January 31st, 2010 Part I (In the Wee Hours of the Morning)
Many have told me that if I accept reality it will start turning out better for me. Doesn’t that seem like the cart before the horse? How can I accept the unacceptable? But we’ve talked about that before lots. Today, I want to focus on the “start turning out better” part. Is it true that things will just magically start doing so? I mean, I know I have somewhat dedicated this blog to magic, but fuck, that would have to be some real fucking powerful magic, there. Now, I don’t always know how to accept wholeheartedly. But I have been trying my VERY VERY BEST to get along with you, Ganymede! And I at least have gone along with the existence you have offered me these long years. I have accepted that it exists and I have worked within its framework, even though I have constantly escaped from it during my leisure time into books and meditation. And I try, try so HARD, to enjoy you! I have told you so often how willing I am to forgive you, and I have even attempted it sometimes, in a fudgy way (I’m not sure I’m doin it rite!).
But I want to give you a chance. I have been miserable all my life. But I WANT to give you a chance :/ Of course I do. I feel like a fiery explosion, but I still want to give you a chance. I don’t want to have to ask for help- I want to be independent. And I have thought that you must want that for me too. But if I need your help, are you going to offer it? They have said you will… of course, THEY are just pieces of the external that has always so disappointed me. And I have been less and less inclined to believe them lately- I even respond to them with perhaps more bile than I should. I really think some solitude would do us some good, Ganymede, even if it doesn’t make me happy and peaceful at my source. A chance to be away from the people I hurt. But I need to survive first, Ganymede. I hate this planet and I don’t want to have to survive, but I have to do it.
You know I don’t hate all of this planet. Luken says that is what I imply when I say such things. But I know you know differently. Trees, flowers, art- such things can be lovely. And even society can offer beneficial things- like laptops! But I am still forced to live here, aren’t I? I only decided to live on this planet because I HAD to do it. The fact that I am forced to find a way to survive here makes me more resentful than ever. I never asked for this!
And so I have problems with acceptance and I have problems with interaction and I have problems with even you, Ganymede. Oh, I would love to live in harmony with you. I would love to believe them when they say you will help me. And maybe you will, even though you have never been able to in the past.
And I am still a miserable pile, Ganymede. I don’t know how to stop. I feel better after talking to you, in one way, and worse in another. And with the same undercurrent of dissatisfaction.
So I complain to you. I know it doesn’t do any good at all, the actual act of complaining. I am just telling you how I feel about this lack of utopia. And I have to others. I have complained to others probably too much- and the fact that they do not welcome it, and therefore me, with open arms, also makes me resentful. I know it made that being I summoned just as resentful for all the same reasons. I should probably have never talked about any of this with anyone. Just you. But both that being and I made the same mistake in complaining to others, somehow thinking that we would receive comfort so long as we were in pain, and perhaps even solutions. But we haven’t, yet. Resentmeeent.
Ganymede, Ganymede, I want to get along with you :/
Ganymede, I love you, but I hate this place. I do not mean to make myself identify with resentment. It is just how I feel about this place. And this place obviously doesn’t like me too well either, considering how much we struggle to coexist. All I can do is recede from the world into that place where I hate it… I hate it, but I am surviving, and I am me somewhere underneath all of this bullshit. I don’t want to spend my life on a delusional escape. But there is nothing for me here. Just meaningless and often ugly and hurtful forms floating by me. I will never be happy with this. I might die someday but I am forced to live here now. I can’t believe I actually live here at the same time that I hate it so much- I feel kind of like- if my hate is so strong, how does that not automatically transport me out of this situation? But it doesn’t and I am still here.
I will never be happy with things like this. But I’m still here. And… I’m still me. All I can think to do is recede. And allow you to look at my surroundings… sometimes I imagine that you shield me from them and that can sometimes help. But that doesn’t mean they’re not there. It doesn’t mean we aren’t watching the ugliness, day in and day out. All I have is escape. If my existence were a food I would be vomiting it up right now; that is what I feel like. With that kind of strength behind my resentment, I do not know how to find peace, Ganymede.
I am trying to recede. I must try to recede. And let you guard me and handle my ego. Otherwise I am always just reminded of the vomity feeling. And that isn’t how I want to feel. If feeling bad is a message from you that I am doing the wrong thing, then all I know how to do is escape. I wish we were somewhere off and alone without any society or exposure to ugliness to worry about.