V for Vendetta reappropriated

And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this world, isn’t there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression…How did this happen? Who’s to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, but again truth be told, if you’re looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.

Modified to remove what I believe to be the unwarranted optimism of V, in addition to an expansion of the assessments scope. The first sentence often pops into mind when I am in my dark moods. The Christians say it is sin, and ultimately the sin of the Fall of Man, which has warped our world. Apparently for Islam it is a test, perhaps akin to the account in Job? The God of Job does seem like a God who would subject the world to such a test. I don’t know where Judaism falls in this spectrum, although I suspect it is probably closer to Islam than Christianity who draws enormous metaphysical import from the Genesis account in order to prepare the ontological grounds for their Christology.

The dharmic religions seem to explain the state of the world as being part karma and part perception. The stoics and many other Greek eudemonic philosophies hit upon the same solution, that suffering is perceptual when our concepts to do line up with reality. I think there is some truth to that, but it fails to address the reality of our perceptions. My own philosophy, which I am not entirely satisfied with, is that shit happens, and that some of it is good and some of it is bad and that there is no real rhyme or reason for most of it, and that we have only limited control over it. If anything, I suspect much of our suffering is ecological, in that we have out bred our environment and are struggling to contain the consequences. I don’t blame humans for this, every biological entity does so if permitted.But I find myself hating the world in my periods of depression, with no real consolation to be found, hence the quote. You are left wondering why there isn’t a force for Good to overcome these ills and bring about harmony. I suppose the only thing to do is adjust my expectations and proceed with the more limited program of trying in my own frail and limited way to make the world a little better around me. Note, I have no talent even for this scaled back project, which is depressing in and of itself.

Sweet nothingness

Shade darkened soul
A lump of coal
Tight in the chest
Like a heavy drop of night
Leaching into my bones
The poison slowly collects
Coursing through my veins
Each breath a labor
Why try for the next
When each brings new hurt
Would I could quit
And simply cease to be
A sigh escapes my lips
For such sweet nothingness

Why these rain drops

Why these rain drops on my face
No cloud is crying in this place
I hear no thunder, no stirring storm
Yet this rain still shakes my form
The tears of God now bring me low
Shaken by an unseen blow
Trembling, now I clear my eye
And cast about for reasons why
I feel this constant deluge spill
When the sky above is still
This weight is growing hard to bear
With every step the others stare
They wonder why I often stumble
The mystery for every tumble
And as they swiftly pass with ease
While circumventing my disease
I cannot help but start to wonder
At the circumstantial blunder
Which has me in its grip unseen
It’s pain a dull and constant sting
They have no answer for my plea
No brief exchange before they flee
Until again alone I wander
With only unknown cares to ponder.


A look within these hands upheld
For secrets of the heart I sought
But empty are the lessons taught
In hand and head and heart
Arms ache for answers to embrace
And laughter lies in sorrows grip
While I fall down to mull my fate
A man who knows he will not see
The end to this quixotic quest
For no one finds the answer
To a question still unknown

Not doing well

This month has been a nearly unmitigated disaster scholastically and personally. Just about everything I was trying to do has fallen apart. My exercise routine, my bible reading, my studying, everything. I’ve been having a real hard time with my depression and it feels like the whole world is collapsing in on me. For anyone asking me how I’m doing, sorry, I lied if I said good. I guess I have been too ashamed to say anything. Even this is pretty revealing, so I wonder how awkward it will be to see those of you who read this and know me in real life. Oh well.

I guess I am writing this because I am hoping that now that this month is over, I can try to pull myself out of this horrible funk and salvage what is left of this semester. It’s going to be hard, really hard, which is part of the reason I’ve been avoiding it, but I can’t avoid it any longer if I am to have any hope left for it.

I’m going to make this note private. I don’t know what I am doing any longer. My decaying on the inside. I’ve been wishing I could die recently. It’s good to get that out, but it is also the reason I can’t share this with anyone else, since if I make it public, then it’s just a dishonest attempt at getting sympathy and attention, and I don’t want to go that low. And the thing is, I won’t kill myself, I just wish I would die. There is a difference. I want to tell others, but I want to do it in a way that isn’t just attention grabbing and sympathy seeking. But what is it I hope to achieve by telling someone else? I’m not clear on why I want to tell someone else, but I still feel like I want to (even need too?) Still, I don’t trust myself, and maybe I am just an attention whore. It makes me sick and wish I could die all over again.

So, now I need to find a way to turn this around, to get myself back on track and productive again. I think a lot more than my grades are hanging on it. But maybe that is just my morbid conceit speaking.

Also, to Hyang: I am so sorry that I have lied and deceived you, although perhaps you already know how badly I have been doing this semester, although I doubt you know the extent of my personal disaster. I am a coward. I can’t face you and tell you what I am feeling and what is going on with me because I am afraid of you and your anger. I guess I am a sympathy whore. What I want from you is sympathy, to comfort me and tell me that I am still loved and that you will be there for me and lend me your strength so that I can overcome these failings of mine. But I am confident that this isn’t what you will do. Instead you will become angry with me, and stop talking with me, and I don’t think I can handle that isolation. It will only break me even further, to the point where I don’t think I will be able to recover, at least not in this semester. And so I hide my true self from you; I lie and deceive and in doing so, I poison my soul in the hope that your continued good graces, even if they are based on a misconception, will be enough to get me through this darkness. But as I said, it is a poison, a seeping decay that eats away at me and, ironically, makes my depression worse, because it can’t be exposed and so cleansed. This is my catch-22. If I reveal my illness, you will shun me, and so take away my hope. But if I hide it, it will only continue to eat away at me. Thus, I, whose greatest weakness is self-discipline, have to try and find the strength in myself to overcome all of this and lift myself out of it. Well, it is with your help, but I have obtained that help only through my lies. Thus, I am ashamed of myself, but it is a shame I will have to live with if I am to have hope.

Anyway, I hope that sometime in the future, you will be able to read this. It really hurts me that I can share these things with you.

Can you feel?

Can you feel the blackness creep
A subtle cold that seems to seep
From the ground beneath my feet
It chills the flesh and grips the heart
Piercing me with icy darts
And yet the scars still burn so hot
Into the darkness I succumb
How can I hurt yet be so numb
Wonder when it will be done
It washes over me again
Deeper than the hopes of men
What will it finally take to end?