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Sunday, September 4, 2016

unhappiness and self-destruction:stages of a diary

pills, sleep, drugs, alcohol, tears, poems, music,
nothing helps:
i remain tortured inside, hurt,
it comes, it goes, it comes.
i walked out of my need day for day,
but i am still here, me, of course,
alone.

i find it very very hard,
out of this confusion,
to find to the essence of me,
to calm consciousness,
acceptance, to the source
of life and to inner freedom.

i walked out of me for a you,
to be present, aware.
i even walked over me,
and this feels wrong.

i had cried for help, once,
there was only blackness,
a cold place in the universe,
indifference.
i tried to forget, i forgave.
i remember how i had thought for a short moment
i am understood and how happy i then walked the road,
playing with children and dogs.
it was an error.

yes, there are good days,
they are not enough days
and even time does not solve everything:
time does exist only in the mind,
and the experience of this is different in each mind.
mind and body go through a process
of dying, this is what time is about.
the soul has no time.

i can feel joy, i can love
and give, but i cannot
go on walking over me.
i am too heavy.

i can do nothing,
i feel immobilized,
i must shut up and rest.
and do what must be done.

will there ever
be another way,
non-speaking,
silent?

i wish for a place
without words
with this you.
i still wish.
it may be wrong to wish.


then i must be my own you.





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