Icarus

I am lost in the maze of pain and longing I have with my own hands created. I have engendered the self-same beast that is now trapped within.

I see you. As a mark on the wall, a blimp on the screen, a face contained in a frame.
I see you. As traces locked in a fragmented and distant time, in a time that shuttles forward unceasingly, in a time that has become nostalgia.
I see you. Every night when the mind departs from the real and wanders in the liminality of dreams.
And I have seen you every night. In those hours, my yearning reveals itself so unfamiliarly familiar and familiarly unfamiliar. In those hours, I am happy but the half-dawn brings with it a scourging awakening of reality.
I hear you as echoes from an eroded past.
I hear you as a voice that speaks what was once inscribed so lyrically, so assuringly.

So I write in a vain attempt to escape the hauntings, in a hopeless measure of untangling these tangled thoughts, in a mad desire to articulate the primal emotions that escape inscription. For writing is my only consolation, my constant companion, my exorcist, and my means to make sense.

I am told that I will become stronger if I survive these torments and tempations.
I am told I will grow if I shield my soul from the shattered hopes, the broken dreams, and the lost affection.
"What does not destroy me makes me stronger" (But Nietzsche forgot about the price that is to be paid for survival).
I know that when I do emerge yet again from this familiar infernal abyss, the return will be birthed from the fires of loss.
And with that re-birth the self-same part which burns with joy at hope and affection would become ashes and dust, to be blown away by the winds of time.
A part of me will die, and you along with it...

But life is about loss, it is about impermanence. (And lord knows how much loss I have had in this lifetime). Time exemplifies loss. Death is a rude reminder of mortality. It is the inalienable truth of life.

So what needs to be done must be done. And so it shall. Or else time shall eventually do so. Perhaps silence shall illuminate that which can no longer be spoken.

This is my burden to bear. This has always been since I awoke to consciousness. This is when the very radiance from the burnished sun now melts away those wings of hope that have lifted me with joy. And I plunge into the ocean...

There is nothing to cope with. There is only grief and acceptance.




Where are you when I need you the most? Where are you...?