All
the old, scary stories from the stupid (man-made) Bible – that so-called
‘sacred’ collection of thoughts – in reality, just the result of wars between power-hungry
men, as usual, fighting to see whose version of history will be the one to rule
the world. And amongst the stories, the
snake, (the ultimate symbol of the male member?) – slithering its way in and
around all our lives and dreams – bringing us to ruin and regret.
Well,
if you believe that, you’ll believe anything.
They
always say that our world is created by our thoughts, and that one I do
believe, but man, or should I say, woman!, it is hard to maintain one’s vision
in the insane and shoving world that is out there. You have to be a sort of bully, in a nice
way, of course, - in the accepted, sly, and clever way of market advertising
and politicians, to ensure your success.
I
am capable of wanting, even pushing, my way at times, but in general, I’m much
too filled with the self-effacing doubts and strictures that were taught to me.
I tend to hide my thoughts and wishes, to avoid their being squashed by others,
which too often has been my experience. The loud voices, in particular the
mocking ones, can easily defeat me.
Suffice to say, the voices that I heard in my past are internalized to a
fairly high level, although I have learned, after much sorrow, to listen more
to myself and my own way. But it’s always a battle, and in the end, isolating
myself is still the best defence. Remove yourself from competition, from sight
even, and no one can smack you down.
Unfortunately,
the isolation has its own ache. Isolation and the obedience to the rules of
common sense, which seem to have lost their sway in the general population. Why
pay your bills on time? Why try to live within your means? Why read or write or
think to improve the world? Why seek knowledge? Why eat or grow healthily, or
support that policy? These days seem to encourage goals of having everything
all at once and damn the consequences.
Die in debt, declare bankruptcy, fill your body and mind with shit and
let everyone else pick up the pieces.
It’s
obvious the snake has done its work in me.
Today I’m not too capable of rising above the mess. The snake has
entered me and left its poison and now it curls its way to my organs and blood,
and sucks my life, which after all is my mind’s vision of a sweeter and more
joyful existence. It sucks it and mangles it into an evil substance which infects
my soul and saddens me so that I lose my vision completely. So that I resent
the seeming happiness and carefree irresponsibility of others; the togetherness
of families that a society focused on material gluttony and wastefulness
encourages.
“Here
I sit a-sewing, in my little housie; nobody comes to see me, except my little
mousie”.
Nobody
sews anymore either. Nobody repairs. Nobody wants things that last, or have
history, or natural beauty. Nobody wants things that last. Here, in the dark of
that old nursery rhyme above that we used to sing, I sometimes sit and think nobody cares. About
anything.
Or
perhaps that’s just me. Today.
I
must remember, after all, - (Scarlett), - tomorrow is another day.
“So
rise, Sally, rise; and shut both your eyes;
And
point to the east; and point to the west;
And point to the very one that you love best."
Creativity comes in many guises, including negativity. I'm sure the next post will be jolly, and filled with pretty pictures.
