Saturday, March 12, 2005

Ill

I do not wish I could cease to be. I wish I could cease to have ever been.

A question I have for the Buddha is, if you cease to become, is it all unwound, are you gone? But the Buddha is not unwound, so when you think about it, you know that you are not.

I do not want only to cease to become.

***

I am looking down on myself. I am curled in a ball. I am wondering whether the person in there is trying to keep the world away or keep himself away from the world. Are they ultimately the same thing?

I am curled in a ball because I am afraid that I have lost track of whether I am more sinned against than sinning. I have stopped caring. I just want the sin to unravel and the world to be pure and clean.

***

I know I have immense resources but I have become confused. How is knowing that not the beginnings of a plan for action? How is it so hard to make others know that they don't win because I know it, but they lose if they do not let me know it?

I know I have immense resources but no way forward.

***

I am afraid of everything. I have immense resources that I could use to conquer fear.

I prefer hatred. I prefer imperviousness. It's easy to think you have a shell when you're not watching the boots coming in.

I prefer love but I don't know how to do it. I prefer love but it means people hurt you. I prefer love but it will only work if we all admit we're curled in balls, trying not to look.

I am afraid of everything but I prefer love. How can I resolve that while I'm lying in a ball on the floor?

***

I don't care about disappearing up my own arse. At least then I don't have to look at you. You've made me ill and I don't have any medicine.

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