| May 22 84 (midnight)
And so I sit here, crying.
To what end?
The thunder rages
And trains crash violently
Metaphoric of my inner being.
Which effects the other?
Does my distress cause the
thunder -
Or the thunder it?
How long shall I indulge
This whim for self-destruction?
How long before I weaken
sufficiently
To sleep?
Had I a solitary bed
Where weeping is permitted
I would sleep soon.
WHY do I weep?
============ |
| Sept 14, 84
Ninety
At the very least -
Wrinkled sunken grey face
Black eyes staring from
purple hollows
Drip tears.
Oh to be gone
To be indeterminate matter
Ordinary, stupid and contented.
All things cause despair
- Nothing is of worth.
My impulse is to fling out
all these stupid books -
Mind and mind and mind and
idiocy
And turn to bread and babies,
The solid necessities of
life.
Forget all this unnecessary
nothingness.....
============
(reference to out-ing books
and in-ing babies is very significant, being totally the reverse of my
previous way of life. Aha! Impending Change!)
|
Oct 30, 84
Life, love and laughter
Continue fleetingly,
Sex much diminished
Lacking intensity,
Emotion toned down
And intellect receding
Disappointingly.
Oh for another spring!
============ |
| Nov 1, 84 (written
while teaching BASIC)
Dreary, weary
I am sick of computers
Sick of FOR-NEXT-STEP
Sick of INPUT
And forsooth
Sick of life.
Again I would be gone -
Indeterminate.
How long must this last?
How frequent the recurrence?
I would lie down and sleep,
Escape this nothingness
============ |
| Dec 12, 84
Alas, again I doubt -
Always this mumbling niggling
voice
Definitely placed at the
BACK of my head
Muttering warnings
And doubt.
I shall ignore it,
Act AS IF I have total confidence
============ |
| Anxiety
This stone in my stomach
is no stone
It has life,
Rigid, bound life.
Stirring slowly,
it intermittently
stretches out claws
and clamps my vitals
Calmly,
Without hurry -
Knowing I cannot escape.
This tension
is of weight
not excitement.
Dull, hopeless,
It stifles,
numbs,
and puts a stranglehold
on creativity.
============ |
| Jan 9 85
Sunlight sparkles
On a grey and mottled snow
And oh!
I would be young again
And feel the sparkle in
my toe
And love of life.
I would be young
An d tread the fields of
fortune
Seeking wealth
A wealth of spirit
Fellowship and health.
I would be vigorous
Combing out my mind
And tossing fluff away
That clogs my spirit.
But as it is - I age
And feel the rapid turning
of the page
Of life
A soon will see the end
-
The index and the bibliography.
I do not fear it
And would welcome such
If others did not miss me.
I feel an urge to put an
end to this -
This life of naught
And dull eternity.
I feel the need
To know some other being
And so to leave
This dreary nothingness
I'm seeing.
If I could go
And voluntarily cut the
flow
Of Chinese chi
I would - for I
Am weary.
I do not want to live for
me
It's pointless and I do
not see
A reason to continue.
But others might (though
very few)
Regret my going -
And so, I'll stay.
============ |
Sept 8 85
The choice of death over
life -
Thanatos in me.
The urge to quit
To quit entirely and return
to permanent hibernation. Cut off all emotional life, all exercise with
its aerobic results.. I cannot enjoy *anything*, being my own worst enemy.
Abandon poetry, abandon human awareness, return to stagnation and none
shall know the difference. Mog on, plod on. I can not even enjoy X. She
is too energetic and might spark me again. I resist and Freud was right.
Thanatos IS. My head aches and I want to go back to bed, but it's occupied.
Maybe the cellar.
Blocked.
Inhibited,
I lie there
Totally relaxed
And totally resistant
To response.
WHY this death wish?
There are three of me -
Not merely two.
The one that wants Eros
The one that wants Thanatos,
And the observer writing
this
Who despairs and cannot
arbitrate...
============ |
Nov 3, 85
How sick am I of blood
And pain
And lowering depression
And alcohol -
the only means of relief
Of pain and ache
Itself a cause
Of tears and gloomy thoughts
Of total lack of knowledge
Of who I am -
No longer sure
No longer aware
Of what I am
Of how to act
Of what I want
Or need
Or strive
for.
I am adrift.
These tears
These sobs
Seem quite apart from me
Purely physical
Unattached and causeless.
============ |