Dear readers,
You are quite lucky to have the very best of me. You don’t have to deal with me on a daily basis, you know. Not with the real me, just my writings. You don’t have to see me at my worse, for I can be cold, hard and cruel. And I can be impatient too. You don’t have to see my face when it is most smug, nor see me turn away, uncaring.
You don’t have to look into my eyes and see envy, and you don’t have to see me eating alone, a glutton. You do not see me disappointing people, being irresponsible and foolish in my 41st year of my life. What you get here is a sanitized version of my life. It is surely the greatest joke that at the end of it all, at the highest apex of my representation to you, all I want to be, all I believe I can ever achieve, is to be a good sinner.
Heche says I write well. But I have stumbled into a sea of melancholy and it is gripping me. I am so melancholic I almost feel French. I hear they are rather good at it.
What do I do, sunshine? What do I do when my writing is better than my living? I must admit that perhaps this blog is a form of escapism. A mad avenue for me to compensate for my real life’s shortcomings. I write and readers read, it almost feels real. Surely it must be real. But is it?
I do not want to waste this posting entirely on melancholy. I love garlic, and I think Paris is very beautiful… but this is not me. Let me trawl my old prose and see what I can come up with. Wait a minute, will you?
Hi, sunshine. Thanks for waiting. I found a rather sweetot little prose which even has a date in it, it sounds rather like this…
12. I am aglow
I am aglow with happiness,
For a sun has risen on my landscape,
And he is shining into every nook and corner,
Banishing the dark that once shadowed me.
Lest, I forget, let me remember this day,
That on the 9th of February 2008,
I felt myself a sailor on a good ship,
With a good breeze behind the sails,
And a good captain at the wheel.
Me and my mates,
Near and far,
I may not see as they see,
And I may not feel as they feel,
But the salty taste in the air is our common communion,
And we know that we are on a sea journey,
Together, traversing an ocean of mercy,
Together, harvesting pearls of wisdom
From her bosom.
I guess its true what the prose says. We are in this journey together. Even if you can only know me through my writings, we are in the same ship called planet Earth. But for a lot of you, you will probably never get to see me. And is shall never have the delight to meet you. Anyways, I am a little tired today, world-weary and confined to my cabin.
So today I leave you to live your life as you wish. To guide your life by that North Star that men call conscience. Sail your life well, sunshine, for wherever you are taking your ship to, you are taking me there too. I will also try to live my life better, sweetness. For wherever I am going, so long as you read my writings, so long as you are sharing my life, I am bringing you with me.
You are quite lucky to have the very best of me. You don’t have to deal with me on a daily basis, you know. Not with the real me, just my writings. You don’t have to see me at my worse, for I can be cold, hard and cruel. And I can be impatient too. You don’t have to see my face when it is most smug, nor see me turn away, uncaring.
You don’t have to look into my eyes and see envy, and you don’t have to see me eating alone, a glutton. You do not see me disappointing people, being irresponsible and foolish in my 41st year of my life. What you get here is a sanitized version of my life. It is surely the greatest joke that at the end of it all, at the highest apex of my representation to you, all I want to be, all I believe I can ever achieve, is to be a good sinner.
Heche says I write well. But I have stumbled into a sea of melancholy and it is gripping me. I am so melancholic I almost feel French. I hear they are rather good at it.
What do I do, sunshine? What do I do when my writing is better than my living? I must admit that perhaps this blog is a form of escapism. A mad avenue for me to compensate for my real life’s shortcomings. I write and readers read, it almost feels real. Surely it must be real. But is it?
I do not want to waste this posting entirely on melancholy. I love garlic, and I think Paris is very beautiful… but this is not me. Let me trawl my old prose and see what I can come up with. Wait a minute, will you?
Hi, sunshine. Thanks for waiting. I found a rather sweetot little prose which even has a date in it, it sounds rather like this…
12. I am aglow
I am aglow with happiness,
For a sun has risen on my landscape,
And he is shining into every nook and corner,
Banishing the dark that once shadowed me.
Lest, I forget, let me remember this day,
That on the 9th of February 2008,
I felt myself a sailor on a good ship,
With a good breeze behind the sails,
And a good captain at the wheel.
Me and my mates,
Near and far,
I may not see as they see,
And I may not feel as they feel,
But the salty taste in the air is our common communion,
And we know that we are on a sea journey,
Together, traversing an ocean of mercy,
Together, harvesting pearls of wisdom
From her bosom.
I guess its true what the prose says. We are in this journey together. Even if you can only know me through my writings, we are in the same ship called planet Earth. But for a lot of you, you will probably never get to see me. And is shall never have the delight to meet you. Anyways, I am a little tired today, world-weary and confined to my cabin.
So today I leave you to live your life as you wish. To guide your life by that North Star that men call conscience. Sail your life well, sunshine, for wherever you are taking your ship to, you are taking me there too. I will also try to live my life better, sweetness. For wherever I am going, so long as you read my writings, so long as you are sharing my life, I am bringing you with me.
.
Pax Taufiqa.
Your wonderful writing is The Ship of Light. It expresses the only thing that is Real. The vehicle of the physical body and its many irritating conditions are not real, it is not who we are. There is a good sign in irritations too: St Theresa of Avila said that the closer we move toward God the more the devil will plague us to keep us from succeeding! Ibn Arabi said that the closer we come to Allah the more our false ego is crushed … and we feel it sharply! C G Jung said the more light that comes into our lives the darker the shadow will appear … until we shine the light on it too! One of our hardest jobs is to not allow our identity to be defined by our physical irritations.
ReplyDeleteTo a degree we just have to endure melancholy like other bodily ailments. But there are positive methods to manage it that will reduce its severity … namely, nutrition. Cold Water Salmon Oil (not fish oil from warm water or farms) is a high grade Omega 3 supplement that reduces depression (I take it daily). Online research should reveal other natural remedies … key word, Natural. (Manmade chemical concoctions can have dreadful effects in some people). It takes a few days for natural remedies to have their effect … and it can be so subtle you may not even notice it … except you won’t be as melancholic anymore! I think you’ll be happily surprised with the results.
And now for garlic grits with eggs for lunch, topped off with a capsule of Salmon oil. Yummm!
Dear Anon,
ReplyDeleteI absolutely agree with you. If you seek enlightment, it is a path full of irritation, and often its an itch on your back that you are unable to reach, however bendable and stretchable you may be. THat's why we need friends. Hehehe. To reach that part of your soul that you cannot attain on your own. Hehehe
THank you for the kind advice on the Salmon Oil... I will certainly try it and advice my partners to do the same. They can be pretty melancholic themselves! But as you see from my posting today, the melancholy lasts only but awhile... Ya Huuuu!
THanks thanks thanks for dropping by, sunshine.
TK.