the God of Wine

And the God of Wine is crouched down in my room, 
You let me down, 
I said it, Now I'm going down, 
And you're not even around. 
And I said no...
I can't keep it all together, 
I know...I can't keep it all together, 

And there's a memory of a window, 
Looking through 
I see you. 
Searching for something,
I could never give you, 
And there's someone who understands you, 
More than I do. 
A sadness I can't erase. 
All alone on your face.

Oh time has flown
I've overstayed awhile
In my time in exile

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time

I have been half in love with easeful Death,

Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,

To take into than ever seems it rich to die,

To cease upon the midnight with no pain.

John Keats

1795-1821

a posse ad esse non valet consequentia

tomorrow

from Iris Murdoch's The Sea The Sea


am i after all alone now, as i intended to be, and without attachments? is history over?can one change oneself? i doubt it. or if there is any change it must be measured as the millionth part of a millimeter. when the poor ghosts have gone, what remains are ordinary obligations and ordinary interests. one can live quietly and try to do tiny good things and harm mo one. i cannot think of any tiny good thing to do at the moment, but perhaps i shall think of one tomorrow.

inferno

suicide, like lust or jealousy - is an obsession. it is a beast that eats you up inside until you are nothing. emotionally first, then it is only a matter of time before the physical deteriorates.


it is a difficult thing to understand, the too often quoted 'permanent solution to a temporary problem' or selfish cowardlice comes to mind. the obsessor sees no other; it is like wall of pain that divides you from what is around you. The feelings of others are difficult to comprehend or emphatize with. what makes it worse is if you do try, it only adds to the pain suffered. soon you see no other, there is no way out, no hope.
just a hole. and a dark dark black one.


at first you reach out to others, you give not so subtle hints, you say stupid things. a plea for help from a desperate mind. there is no release from your suffering, who can ease your agony? no one. soon it is apparent that people are selfish pricks. they turn thier backs on you one by one. after all it is just a plea for attention that you are deprived of.
isnt it?


then quiet. this is the most agonizing. Yet it is calming, cold and determined. you have given up all hope of recovery, the people in your life, your relationships seem like distant ghosts, a half tuned radio with no white noise. just quiet. silence. it is deafening. you are trapped alone with your self. your self that you loath and love. the voices start. they say leave, leave, leave this pitiful prison. there is no hope here. only pain. even the pain is feelingless. it does not hurt it does not anything.