One night, in the sometimes passed, I wrote this. Some who know me may be quite astonished to read this, never having guessed I am anything other than the person they know me as. But I am a very private person… well, I was until very recently. It was a terrible night when I wrote this and now I’m glad I did put it to paper, though typing it out today does take my full attention to remain centered even now. It has brought me to a place of peace… a place where time has simply disappeared and there is only now. I called it Dark Knight because these aspects of us are incredibly dark but they also contain our salvation, if we could but see and accept it. The problem always must contain the solution… indeed, how could it be any other way?
I sit and ponder
the meaning of my life.
Why, is always the question with no answer. At least no adequate, lasting answer.
I ponder the inadequacies of myself. Always that unavoidable collision of despondency and depression which can only birth a new and fresh approach to inadequacy.
Only possible now to feel it even more deeply – even more ‘exquisitely’.
Exquisitely inadequate. Yes, that is me.
Deepening now, going further into the feeling.
Exquisitely inadequate… Yes, it has always been true!
Devotion to the cause will always pay dividends!
Searching, looking, seeing the feeling come to life.
Seemingly without end.
Exquisitely inadequate. No, it is not a happy feeling this one, taking me backwards through time, evaluating, judging … then condemning myself.
Tomorrow will be no better.
Changing now, for the sake of sanity, pretending that this too shall pass. Too scared to be what I desire, endlessly comparing myself to others. They are good, they are bad… they are better, they are worse…
Always, inevitably ending in exquisite inadequacy.
Desire, death, destruction… feelings flitter by. Some take root and grow, tying me into an endless cycle of ego driven morality. Tasting like honey at first but soon that too falls away… leaving only the bitter taste of disgust and the anguish of exquisite inadequacy.
Self-doubt insidiously gnawing its way through my consciousness once more. It knows where to go – the path long since worn into patterns of belief within.
Within, a half-existence.
A Half-hope, a hidden hope… secret, not daring to emerge …too precious to examine.
Once more dashed, destroyed ‘forgotten’ as the sensation of being exquisitely inadequate re-asserts its forbidden hold once more.
No need to explain.
Very necessary to hide.
Keeping it very secret.
Will it always be like this?
The beauty of life lies beyond belief… the terrible heat of the words arises and they quickly burn themselves into my mind; a black fear spreading quickly throughout my consciousness.
Too late now for peace. Going deeper now into darkness – what else is there to feel? Nothing now is left – passing obliquely away.
Leaving only an open wound. Unable to heal myself.
Beyond life lies the beauty of belief.
Beyond belief beauty lies.
and beauty always lies…
No More. No More. No More.
What choice is available really for the inadequate self?