Resoundings

I find that I have the most words on how I do not have any words to say, and my idiolect becomes becomes a pattern of cliche phrases and incessant disclaimers; all to be scraped upon review.

 I try to be the finger pointing at the moon, or the mirror into which you may come to see the divine nature that is yourself, and all around you, despite the fact that most all Suffer and people still kill, rape, torture, manipulate, and willing cause pain to others. Surely, my kindness gets me nowhere but first in line for the tickets to hell.

By this I do not mean that after one dies, they end up in eternal anguish, as though it could be worse than what we put each other through, and what our own minds put us through, it is the hell of expectation that one's kindness will lead to a desired outcome. The mind is a crafty one, for even in the future it may call upon some caring deed, done out of the true need to enrich another's life, and require of it personal praise for a job well done. It is the hell of recognition that one is such a small lens from which to view the world, and reconciling one's actions for a world they want to see with accepts of a world they cannot change; their thrownness .

 It is all the cruelty, and the instantaneous judgments of right and wrong points of views or actions; so attached to and grasping for an independent self that always has whatever answer the world needs. It's that craving for uniqueness, that mind that assures one, "oh, there must be heroes and commoners. And I must be one of the select few among the heroes to deliver the message of the divine to the nobodies." Don't worry my friend, for no matter what you do, someone will be able to find disagreement with it.    

It the comparison of one's own suffering to another's as though it's some kind of contest to see who can have the most miserable existence. The difficulty of dealing with one's own feelings of guilt, shame, worthlessness, and the concepts of deserving things, should/must, right/wrong, good/evil, superlatives, generalizations, affection/disdain, ingroup/outgroup, constant desires for pleasure and avoiding pain. It is almost enough to desire ending myself. and the world would turn ever on. And no matter what you do, your mind will respond to this, and the world will turn ever on.

Once and Again

Supposedly it can be the case, every once and awhile, that putting one's thoughts outside of the personal mental realm might just in fact lead to some sort of further comprehension or connection or catharsis. The probability of this journal being rather dull or depressive is quite high, but my friend, this bell only tolleth for you vicariously; though your wisdom, electric sojourner, is welcome. One would assume more trolling than heartfelt empathy from this mode of affinity seeking. Rumination, degradation, and self deprecation can be expected. It's just the workings of this simple minded human.  Well, more to come......