Do you ever fight with yourself? blame yourself? accuse yourself? and put yourself in the dock opposite an imagined all pervasive all attentive jury to pass a crucial sentence on you?
I'm not sure how many people are prone to this malady, but, I at times find myself completely at odds with myself. I feel there are two persons inside of me who are having it out, at my expense! (then that would make it three, wouldn't it? hmmm) Then it seems at such dark interludes reason abandons me and leaves me wandering alone in the midst of some black forest. I can't find a way out and keep going around in circles till I get even more agitated and alarmed, and every sound, every noise, every little whisper is enough to make me jump a hundred feet off the ground.
I envy the sorted out souls. Those who know their minds, their emotions, their feelings, nah, the ones who can with assured assurance predict their own behaviour in times to come based on perhaps errr their past actions?... Hell! no such luck comes my way. I am a cauldron of, to put it mildly, a witch's brew that's boiling at high temperatures, at say most of the time, and is sputtering and spilling at the edges with burning splashes splattering all over the place. Ya, its messy business... this, being me.
I'm dying to know the secret. This deep dark hidden pit of truth jealously gaurded by the keepers of this elusive elxir. What is it that brings on this contentment, the serenity, the peace of being with oneself and all that is around it. I read endless pages and devour volumes on how sages and shamans and warriors of light have sought the treacherous path to knowledge, but what of it? They are mere words on paper, beautiful words indeed, profound words if one may say, but then at the end of it all, I remain alone confronted with this entangled, confused, angry and agitated soul, who is all beset to argue and play the devil's adovocate. I must admit to one thing, it's never boring being me for whatever its worth, it's impossible, it's tiring, it's exasperating and highly bothersome - but uneventful and boring... no never.
And, here I am yearning away, pining away for monotony, for boredom, for a straight-forward existence, where my emotions play a secondary role and I think like a newt. Well? can that ever be? would there come a time when the machinery of my brain that goes on and on, whipping away stories of all kinds, scenarios of disaster, will it ever come to a halt or even slow down?
Will I ever be someone else?
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