hey guys I haven't posted in a while not that I stopped writing just not sure about posting but someone asked about it so I thought I would post
He who is not…I hate to think of him because to think of him is to think of loss. It is amazing really, though also confusing. Think of the infinite possibilities! What was lost? How can I know? There is no measure to describe, no volume to the mass of it, no weight. And yet there was loss I am sure of it, and grieve over it and there lies the core of this. How do you grieve what never was? To what degree do you long for something you never had? What is appropriate? To lose an arm is tragic but we know an arm. We know its function and form and so we grieve to the extent that we have lost that function then find a way to compensate and move on. But this, this open ended loss of unknowns leaves us to wonder about he who is not. Who was I before the touch? What have I lost? And then the more horrible question, what has taken its place? To try to look back is futile. Oh I can see, but only to the touch never beyond it. I see him, the one who is not at the moment of shame, scalded, and blistered, with the heat still radiating from the flame that has seared his flesh. The pain of that moment obliterates the memory of who he was before. Laughter, joy, Where is the memory of these? Perhaps they never were. Is it possible they never existed? What fleeting moments I may see are perhaps but a dream that allows me to cope. It may be that a more philosophical approach is needed… “I hurt, therefore I am”
Edited by newground (02/12/13 06:53 PM)
Towards thee I roll, thou all-destroying but unconquering whale; to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee. let me then tow to pieces, while still chasing thee, thou damned whale! Thus, I give up the spear!"