More Darkness

Well ... things are ... intensifying. So, is this a woe? I mean ... so, if 15 days is like the time it takes to wait, and I'm going off the rails NOW ... that'd be stupid. At least I should wait like ... another 5 days. But at the same time I ... I like ... KNOW ... how this is going to end. Which is ... as it always does ... and that makes me ... it tears me apart.

I get up - all is well - but by the end of it I'm a wreck. Somehow ... something will creep in to irk me and I'm like ... getting annihilated.


It's like something else, think of it as glowing hot iron, like a statue or golem that kind of just sits there trying to be me. Within me. My heart is like ... poisoned. I'm disgusted by myself, I hate myself ... and there's ... more than enough bad thoughts that my heart has committed to to keep it fed.

The hatred.

And then it projects outward because inevitably the hatred is coming from there in the first place. My gut reaction is to deflect it and so when 'enraged' all I know is to become like ... a star of hatred. Radiating it, fuming ... willing to squash out every last thing in existence.

To just make it stop.
Life ... that is.

Or whatever 'this' is ... that we call life. The fact that I have to take a moment to consider this.
All the moments I stopped to consider this or that, all the times I had a goal in mind but went on to analyze the problems first ... like, my whole behavior, my basic mode of operations ... where did it take me? I'm sickened by it. By myself. By the fruits of my labour.

There was I ... proud. Happy. Like a child enjoying a new discovery, playing, living, existing. And yea, that's the one. That's the one that got burned. That's the one who's sitting there with fire in their eyes.

And what can it do?

You could say that these last few years were me getting off track, building a life instead of doing whatever I should have done. I figured that it just came with the recovery. Starting to feel better, balancing life with personal interests - like, it was the thing to do, either way. Did something try to tell me otherwise? Well, there's always something telling me ... "the opposite is true".
And of course it is.

Like, what else is going to happen, but me getting yet another slap to the face? I mean, why not? I'm here, out on my own, convinced of something that lacks any and all proper confirmation - and when I sit there and get reminded of my errors - which, I notice, I usually don't get around correcting either (because I lack awareness thereof) - it just feeds into it further.

For a while then I found refuge with the Lord, but then - it kind of started to break. My confidence gave way to the doubt. I myself ... I feel like little more than my skin ... sitting on ... a vessel filled with hatred and rage - fueled by a heart I cannot control. There's like a fine line I can walk - virtually - like ... razor thin ... - which is most easily summed up as spite.


I mean, I learned that basically I can just 'exist' ... to like ... "phase out" such as to not let anything touch me - but eventually that feeds into passivity that further feeds into another vulnerability.
I mean ... there's nothing much confidence inspiring about my life. What I see when I look around me. Chores, done or undone ... . I mean, it does give me some pleasure to see things turn from a mess into something that isn't - but it's like, there's this huge hole in the wall of my ship ... which is just the pointlessness of it all. I mean, what even is my life at this point? What am I doing? What's the purpose? I'm just alone ... by myself ... virtually locked in a terrarium of sorts - and I can see the road towards becoming something like the Dung Eater.
Though I guess it'd look more like the Frenzied Flame.

I mean, if You imagine the Dung Eater as someone that was condemned for something he was a victim to himself, without a road to retribution, only hatred slowly eating up his entire being ... such that salvation itself would at some point just be another form of corruption. So, to the mind where it becomes 'real' to the individual.

The Dung Eater then thematically is more aligned to ... plagues that I've been spared from - for the most part - but then I'd probably end up closer to that than to actually harming myself more directly.
And the whole concept of Nirvana ... I really don't like it.


I guess ... the idea of Nirvana and Astair are linked. Though one is an idea of the Afterlife, the other is an interpretation of whatever "Linkedness" we might experience; One that might lead us to assume that we're far more connected than we actually are.

I mean - we have a body to interact with the world; And the more we learn about the mind, the more we understand that the world itself is an abstraction that our minds have grown to navigate within. We have an understanding of one another because we share certain features. A body, to begin with. A name, a face. Speech patterns. Hands, feet. The whole thing. So, whatever we think of one another - that is filtered through the concepts that this world imposes upon us. While these concepts come before us - so, whatever we 'are' ... 'is' and that is already a 'body' of sorts - but how would we know of one another? What senses do I have that would inform me that I'm not the only thing in existence? LOL! Ignorance!

I live in a world where clearly something came before me. Time, history, present, tomorrow ... all that is kind of woven into the very naked truth of it all.


But what is the nature of it all? The forces that be? The things that impress upon my spirit?

I don't know. I thought I had escaped but because there was nobody there - I don't know. I suppose that's good for me, but ... how does God feel about it? Would HE turn, if it was all of You versus me alone?

God is Good, but isn't Good ... a relative thing? Isn't my clarity itself evidence thereof ... and on top of that a showcase of how ignorance can make things just a little bit more special? So, who am I now? Am I still ... willing to stick to my guns? Well ... those ain't my guns ... so ... that's not the issue.

Surely ... the forces that be ... hate me. And I start to look at myself and worry about what God allowed me to become. ...
And what would that be?


Well ... it's not so much a 'thing' as it is ... the whole of it. How I just despise everything now. How when I find joy in something ... it starts to turn sour. Then I brood over it ... dwell on how pointless it is, how ... it's just vapid and void ... and I'm like ... just one step away from griefing myself.

That'd be new. That'd be different. If I end up hating what I do anyway, I might as well just ... cut to the chase and self-destruct.


As for how I'm doing ... that part of me that still has like a positive line with God ... is being instructed to be REALLY careful; To not do too much, to just relax and take it easy. Avoid stress, ignore chores, ignore everything. Well ... and smoke weed. It's kind of iffy to get the dosage and the phasing right - but eventually that poses enough stress in and of itself for me to give a flying fuck about it. That's ... yea, also where I am. Like ... I thought I came out stronger and stuff, but really ... internally I'm like ... wizzed away and all I got is a big fuck You at this fucking hellscape - and - unless God steps in, I'm crashing down. That's pretty much set. I mean, to do right by Him I have to take it this way. So ... I guess that's a silver lining to the story.


I mean ... whatever. There's nothing to be DONE and that's like ... in about as much as I can right now.
And I really don't know ... what else to say.

God or no God. Like this or like that. I merely function. Stuff gets into my head - I roll with it. I'm going through my habits, the end. There isn't much form ... to "something akin to a God" in my life; But some harmonically aligned driving force that encourages me to buckle up and ... for some reason it keeps getting harder to do so.

Is this a woe? Well ... I'm starting to run out of those too ... I suppose.