Posted by Adam on February 11, 2001, at 19:24:19
I have been for months now utterly swamped with work. The bad thing about science is the more you accomplish you more work you create for yourself in the way of following up interesting results and publishing. All part of my "getting more motivated" kick. If I had just sat on my butt instead, I'd have so much less to do right now. That's what you get for self-improvement, I suppose. I still want to create a web page about MAO, etc., but that's way on the back-burner, at the moment.
I was cleaning house (the only time my place is really clean is when I have other things I should be doing) and dug up more stuff I had written in various places. Some of these things are approaching ten years old. I had forgotten them, mostly. They made a fair impression, as a result, and, like all the things I wrote around them, are a pretty clear indicator of my tortured state of mind.
I stopped writing for a long time, and then a few months ago began again, for a little while, before I got hosed with work. I thought I would post them. It's is easy to do because I already wrote them, and allows some contribution to this forum that I hope is positive. Also, maybe other people can share their writing, too.
The word "catharsis" gets beaten to a hackneyed pulp in the realm of pop-psyche, but it's still useful, despite the abuse. These things were my catharses. Maybe it's also helpful to share them...group therapy?
This one I wrote after an old g/f suggested various "issues" might be related to my mother's death, long ago. The mere suggestion thoroughly pissed me off. I never confessed later that I had written this, after one of my first therapy sessions, which also thoroughly pissed me off...Voice 6/92
Can't say, can't move my mouth the
way the feelings feel
A spiraling falling voice from afar
A strangely soothing voice from the depths
Deep beneath the surface of the dream
The shock, the living terror of what wasTumbling and twisting in
A phantom wind, the breath of ghosts
A voice, so far away and sad
Echoes forming sounds I cannot grasp
and I awake
The waking breaks the dream with a shudderI look up as if to see
a face, a smile
but you are long vanished
and where does happiness go
but into the hole where you fellI am guiltless but for this inconsideration:
I barely remember you, never kept your memory sacred
I can't even picture you clearly
Your grave still brings me tears that are foreign
Crying for a friend I could have never hadCreature haunting me, is it you?
Rising from beneath, an explanation
A clinical concept to explain my
Clinical condition
This one represents a recurring theme: heartbreak...Mistake 9/91
When, or how, or why
Did I ever understand you
Or misread the symbols
Mistake the signs
Always, always blind
Did a touch signal love
Did a thought become a fact
When, before, you kissed me
Was it complianceObligation............................ In the morning
Social conventions.............Your face and hair
Making moves.....................And touch were
Kissing deeply....................The first time I felt
Undressing..........................So good in so longSleeping, or trying
The sadness is not that you are not for me
Nothing, a dead end, a brick wall
The fact remains
Remains a fact, and nothing changes thatBut those moments
Were they just the motion
Just the standard course
Wishful thinking, we ignore the past attractions
Was it that
Was it that
Or was it always nothing
Just my imagination
Another, along that same vein...To Forget 9/91
She walks into the room with her smile
She has that charming air about her, but
Just what do I see in her who
Does not care for meIf I were, or if I could be hers
She would see
So many sides of being
I could unlock
Something deep withinYou pull me to you, breathing, and
Pull me through you
and
In an empty arm and leg embrace I fell
Something contemporary...I tried to write a song, basically. I think this represents a healthier outlook, coupled with a lot of the older me. It has no name...3/2000
I wouldn’t have tried but, well, what else could I do
You sent me that note before the Monday was through
And since we had only really spoken that Sunday
It was a surprise to talk the very next dayI never expected much, so I can’t say why
I couldn’t just chill and let the evening go by
I guess I got nervous, just like I always do
When I’m sitting close to someone pretty as youBut still I’m surprised I lost whatever appeal
In the perfunctory bullshit you trade over a meal
I couldn’t help thinking that there might have been more
But maybe there wasn’t really much to exploreIt was long ago so now what more can I say
You blew me off in the nicest possible way
So I walked the walk alone in debt to your kindness
The exit you handled with such perfect finesseThe things I can’t help, I guess it’s useless to try
Can’t even begrudge you what you’re kindness belied
So I wish you well although in truth I confess
I still kept your number and your name and adressJust a reminder, or perhaps something more?
I’ll never know why or what I do these things for
Maybe for a chance however slight it may be
To know how you’ll feel when you see her close to meTo know how you’ll feel when you see her close to me…
And, lastly, something happier...For E., 2/2000
How did I find you
What other sense informed me
Of your secret and you of mine
How did you find me
What did you see
Behind my eyes
The silent cues that
Evade the waking mind,
The conscious thought
They move us nonetheless
With all our senses clear
To reveal the content of one’s heart
Abandon lies of omission
A precognition
A small miracle among friends
poster:Adam
thread:4547
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20010209/msgs/4547.html