Thursday, August 19, 2010

This Is What

This is what a migraine looks like. Knowing only that you were looking at a human brain, you would guess: migraine. I've been wallowing through one since last night and I have to say it alters perception to such a degree that anyone who commits a crime while riding the back of a migraine has a strong case to make for temporary insanity.

I know this feeling will ebb at some point, but I can recall parts of my life where there was no such promise of eventual relief. If the fucked life had a mascot it would be a migraine.

Look at that image again. Anger and frustration seem to ripple off it. But worse than the emotions is its effect. It stymies. It debilitates. It stops all save itself. This is what it means to be fucked. This is what the fucked life is: angry and immobile.

* * *

"You are not an isolated entity, but a unique, irreplaceable part of the cosmos. Don't forget this. You are an essential piece of the puzzle of humanity." - Epitetus

The soul's migraine, the fucked life, imagines itself to be utterly alone. Hence, the anger, the frustration, the pain. We are not meant to be alone. We may choose to be solitary, but not alone. I require great swaths of time to be left to my own devices, and I equally require a re-entry into the fabric of my close society: friends, family, my best beloved. Forgetting to come back, remaining in isolation longer than needed is the same as this morning's migraine: painfully useless.

No man is an island, yet we retreat at exactly the moment we should move forward, move outward from our misery and engage what's next. Our retreat can become habit and without so much as a whimper we are fucked. No outside act, no external circumstance can save you, make you happy or banish the black dog of your desolation. It is solely in your hands.

And that sucks. For at that moment when you decide enough is enough, when you want something other than being alone in your fucked life, you have no foothold, no practice in being unlonely, in unfucking your life. It is here where you finally understand what a leap of faith is.

You've got to let go of the past, let go of the misery, the victimhood, the sense that you've been wronged by Chance. Let it go. Just shit it out and start walking away. Doesn't matter what direction - just not back. One foot in front of the other. Standing still is being fucked. It is a rejection of all that life is: change.

Rilke asks:

If drinking is bitter change your self into wine


Easy to say, but hard to practice when you've been alone too much with your fucked self. Give yourself away. The relief you seek is found when you love something other than your misery.

Promise.

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