Sunday, March 06, 2005 // 10:57 PM

alarm

would it scare you to be thought of a crazy? not because of the whole mess of social repercussions, though i am not saying that that is inconsequential, but because of questionable, unverifiable sanity. i have been alarmed, i have been disorientated. i feel safer saying things like, dadaism suits me more than i have ever known, rather than. faith, God, are you there? in my mind it has been a cartoon God, a flat, black and white, simplistic God. surreality has been comfortable for me, but today has been provocative experience after provocative experience, not in a bad way, i know, in a way perhaps sorely needing. daniel says... interesting things, and it is his conviction as much as the things that he says that strikes me, speaks to me. i would like a greater faith, i would like to know what i truly believe. i would like control over what i truly believe, it is like my saying, i hear you but i dont hear you. i hear you but i dont hear you. God, are you there, and if You are, would You let me know for sure? or would You help me to believe for sure. it is not a question of the things done in my life, because this in itself is probably a miracle going unnoticed, how i have prayed for spiritual growth and how all this revealing, disconcerting conversation has suddenly made an appearance in my life. somehow my eyes are closed Lord or somehow i am refusing to see, Lord why dont i have control over myself and if i am not to, will You please have control over me? i think i am saying something like take my free will and give me certainty. which is a stupid thing to say, in ways, because of how tied i am to this part of me, but greater because of the fundamental fallacy that this statement encompasses.

i am the greatest fallacy. it is close as if i am refusing to believe, refusing all evidence. explaining things away, while i have every reason to know for sure, God you exist, God you exist. this is an entirely wrong attitude, my begging for evidence, my shirking of responsibility, evasion of effort. like simon, the guy to whom paul says, may your money perish with you, because you thought you could buy the gift of God with money!.

daryl called me confused today, i feel like there is no way out of this. i am not saying that i am stable, now, it is just that i have gone unconscious for a few hours and that has made all the difference. does it scare or comfort me, the notion that my instability is related to the physical. the notion of heaven as much as the notion of hell freaks me out. and after having come to a point like this, how does one go back to the state of not knowing? to have reached my hand into my head and switched my mind off. there is only so many times you can do something like that, without turning yourself into a mess for entirely different reasons. am i being in any way coherent? i think i am, this time, because at least one other person has understood me, has gotten this kind of message of what is going on inside me head. perhaps i can portion of some of the blame to the bleak weather of the moments itself, the distant grey and rolling clouds and the wide open space and the completely lack of distraction. lack of distraction. i am glad that sam took the book back because i dont think i could take reading it in my right now, screw with my mind when i am all alone. what gets to me is this notion that this instability is a necessary and painful part of the process, a process with no certain outcome and no certain measurable result. when do you come to a point where you know for sure that you will never go back to being what you once were? i dont think i will ever be able to staidly consider such things, i dont think i will ever be emotionally strong enough to open my eyes to such terror and magnificence. the idea that the world is certainly not just full of crashing bores.

and i think i am giving sam a scare, or freaking him out of sorts.

while drinking my expensive coffee last now i was thinking about how the gift of Expression is a subtle thing, one of those gifts that you never appreciate until it's gone. because when you can't express what it is that's on your mind, you feel...claustrophobic, constipated, in a sense. and i think about how marvin said he likes to mull over stuff a lot, and i'm thinking of how i used to be like that, and how after a while i dont know any more, i remember the feeling of an endless eternity, both in sense of time and space, stretching out in front of you, sometimes the void is full of incomprehensible things and sometimes the void is astoundingly empty. and... that's how i felt, and that's why i started running, that's why i surround myself with the preppiest of details, the happiest-sounding of symbols. i don't believe my personality, personified, is a loud character, but certainly i am. certainly i am. nothing is a question of real or fake anymore, i remember saying to myself, i don't have to be true to myself to everyone else, all the time, but i have to be true to myself to myself, all the time. all the time. and that void, i remember the first time i felt it was filled was when yong was trying to explain some mathematical concept to me, something abstract and something extracurricular, she was saying something about how each line of numbers could be derived from the previous, and could subsequently determine the next, and how the line of numbers could go on forever and ever and ever, i remember seeing the lines and lines and lines of numbers stretching out behind my eyes to a backdrop of starry black eternity, scrolling and scrolling like something out of a star wars movie, and myself, the mind's eye, continually moving back, back, back, always to a larger and infinitely broader perspective, i remember too seeing the face of the mathematician as it was printed out that handout that she made me tack up the back of the classroom, how i put my head down on the table in the middle of her sentence and just felt that vastness of eternity, unable to discern if the void was the space in which i was in or the space that fills my mind, and also being unable to encompass them both, unable to decide which of the two was the more paralysingly terrifying.

so. so i am both afraid of falling, and afraid of hurling myself off the edge, i do that some times, do you know what that feels like? it's like seeing something you could never imagine face to face, for the first ever time, and sometimes you just feel like you'd rather die than have to face an entire lifetime of such experiences. and, and so i run, run motivated bu this terrorr, to stop myself from creeping to the edge and looking over, to stop myself from hurling myself off that cliff and out into a vast and endless spiral, my mind or the place in which i am.