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What is it that finally pushes a friendship over the edge and destroys it? And when this happens can it be salvaged with an apology and a heartfelt conversation? What is it that defines our compatibilities with other people? Is there a genetic click with another person or do we grow these friendships like plants and then watch them wither untended and die. Sometimes one person will uproot the friendship with a cruel, unnecessary or unintentional blow. In which case, the plant, if you will, dies swiftly. In such cases it is possible to regrow the plantâ€"if we care to indulge this metaphor, provided the green wood stays alive. And sometimes I believe the friendship is a weed which chokes the garden of our minds, and must be poisoned, although in doing this we harm ourselves with the toxins. I don’t know. This is simply a musing tonight. This is simply a brief rattle on the nature of our human organisation and I think there may be more to come on this subject, as it is a fascinating one. Xx Tron |
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Wanted, amateur oneiromancer. Last night I dreamed that there were huge waves crashing in at the beach near where I live. The waves started small and grew bigger and bigger. They somehow engulfed my wallet, and some coins I had. There was a pile of coins on the bottom of the sand. I wanted to go into the waves and get the coins. I wanted my money. I had to buy milk. But the waves were too big. They just kept getting bigger. They were huge. My fear over ran my desire to get the coins from the bottom. Eventually, and I’m not quite sure the outcome after this point, I realised that there was nothing I could do and that I should give up on the coins, rather than being drowned by the sea. There are certain themes to this dreamtime cinema. There is the beach, violence, the house where I spent most of my childhood, there are the dreams about hating people, natural disaster dreams, esp tornados, and there are the dreams about my mother. These are patterns that recur for me. Interesting. Does anyone else remember their dreams? Or care to relate them? Does anyone else see common patterns in their dreams or nightmares? Or even things that provoke them to dream certain things. I have a lot of dreams about the coast, which could simply owe to the fact that I live on the coast. But I’d be exceptionally interested to know if these things, natural disasters near the coast, mean something… universally speaking. Although I doubt that anything of that nature would be even remotely possible. |
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It is a merry dance that deprivation puts the paces of the mind through. When distilled, do we actually have more to say? Or do we simply take more care in their saying... Audience, it is as always you who decides. So recently there has been method to my madness. And the method has been to attempt to exorcise the madness from the rigours of daily life. Such is the way of things, that even the best deep blue funks must come to an end. Or at least try to be dispelled seriously. This is a new endeavour in a world without originality. Of course this could be a random rantation of my own. Where words are pulled from the air only to be forgotten with aquatic speed later, and revisited with a sense of amusement. Arcadia... arcadia. So what is a life rescued from panic? How does it feel to know there might be a light at the end of the tunnel? A constant battle between what you might understand as angels and devils. And for the first time I can see the angels and devils in everyone else. There is something common in me. I no longer feel exceptional for being different. I feel trapped, in some kind of mental rut. There is something better out there I'm sure of it. I want to work toward that something else. When you are changing yourself you often have to ask yourself is it worth it? Happy people sitting you down in therapy blowing smoke up your arse about how well youre coping with your deepest darkest urges. And it all feels a little bit like the blind leading the blind. You can't understand what it is like to be in this position or you couldn't have any effect lifting me out of this blackness. Empathy might just be over rated. Perhaps you actually have to have no sense of empathy to maintain that stalwart disposition that getting better is actually worth it. But to return to point, if they are really truly happy as they sit there in those bland pathetic rooms provided for my wellbeing, then they don't know how delicious it is to be deep and dark and different. And I certainly can't empathise with happy. Which one of us has the angel and which one has the devil? Isn't there something to be gained on BOTH sides? All I know is that by separating myself for some time now from people who indulge that deep dark well of mentality, I've started to climb the fuck out. Still got some fingernails left in these wicked claws and the sludge might be drying up on the walls. Don't know what I'll look like when I get to the top, but there is someone up there shouting "Put your fucking back into it" and if I don't get out of this shithole, its not going to be their problem, its just going to be mine. I don't know if I'm making any sense.. I'm very tired these days. Perhaps its all the fighting in my mind. Take care all. Tron |
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So venting again to the world, but still painfully short of something to say. Is there a meaning or a truth I can offer you? And if there was, would it be my place to offer it to you? I think the truth is, I just want you to know that I’m here. That I’m still here. I want to remember this feeling when the memory fades. I’ve been trying to stop from thinking too deeply lately. Don’t worry about the mental scars, just heal the skin and let time do the rest. Its proving to be a worthwhile way of doing things. Slowly. Somehow, it isn’t as pain staking to actually take the time to do things at this moment in time. Somehow it isn’t as important to analyse what is happening. It is very likely only a brief reprieve before all the noise starts in my head again… but we will see in time. Time isn’t my enemy, it is my friend and mentor. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I might actually have a reasonable amount of it as an option. So with this all happening, it comes as no surprise that I have so little to say. There is no insight, I’m painfully low on observationsâ€"due to my self imposed seclusion. And I’m just waiting to see where all this dust settles. Something akin to happy. Tron. |
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When I write here, I imagine what he would say to my words if he read them. If he came to this, my sacred existence. And he laughs in my mind. Maybe he wouldn't laugh. But he would definately see that this is an inflated sense of self. He'd see that this is something he will never understand. What do you do as a depressed person when your partner is incapable of empathising with depression? What do you do when its dawning on you that you created, manifested, nurtured the sickness inside yourself... and you liked it... So I'm fighting my own baby here. I'm fighting the intellectual side of myself. I'm fighting the misanthropy. I'm fighting the self that hates picket fences. trying not to become a hateful dichotomy. trying to be safe not scared. not scarred. Again I come to the point where I have to ask myself what is most important. Ask myself why I want to get better. Its for a chance at something more fulfiling. Why get better? Why? Why? Why? Is happy any better than sad? Yeah miserable is as miserable does maybe? I'm just tired. I feel like the last couple of days I've been pushing shit up hill. I know that this is 'normal' and that it will happen. But it fucking frightens me. It makes me think that there might not be the twinkling of something that I just can't help wanting and without that I can't entertain the fairytale. I've never played the princess, I've always been the dragon. So To try not to push everyone away again and make life 'hard' for myself. To try not to be scared. To try and show my scars without slashing them. Fuck I'm edgy today. Breathe. Thats all we can do. Breathe. This self indulgent blog might not be good for my MH. xxtron |