Looking back at the early April posts and even moreso the pre-April posts, it is like seeing shadows gathering around a dying beast in a thicket as the evening purples into twilight. I am looking upon something that is in its death throes, that can feel the blood welling up its throat from a rupture deep inside, and I feel empathy, but no true communion. Darkness gathers there, but I am under the sun.
That's the crazy part: already it is as looking upon some one not-I, some-thing other and benighted which claws at the earth in fear and agony. That person was me, and I am that person--but drawn on the diorama of a far-flung past, in the midst of a horrible but now-complete transmogrification. Relating differently, wildly differently, doing different things and living a completely different life.
And we do not remember fear or pain as clearly as we should. Our over-clever mechanisms protect us too well, and we forget what it is to truly suffer. Thus, all the time and depravity we spend and allow for in the pursuit of our most barbed and poisoned pleasures. All the ways we won't protect ourselves from our abscesses and chasms.
A blee blah bloo! Whoop-de-doo. I feel better, yet find a way to feel bad and doubtful about that. Excellent. High-level stuff, here.
*
We must be as we are. Honest, if we can manage it. Doing our best.
And yes, if we are honest, we must say: sometimes you have to suffer terribly in order to become the next you.
--JL
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