Incoherent Thoughts

I've read recently that there are two kinds of worlds; the one we live in and the real one. Our 'world' is quite relative...it is based on our perception; one that stems from the experiences we may have had...or those through which we have lived vicariously...nevertheless, we assume a life that is 'expected' whether it be by our or someone else's standards.

Our biggest problem is that we often lie to ourselves. We convince ourselves that we are unique... special...different...liberal....democratic...conservative...
unpredictable...or the worst of them all, "free". LOL...the constitution is a lie....we have no fucking freedom. Freedom of speech is not absolute...look at Dom Imus...freedom of religion is an even bigger joke...Osama proved that. We're not free to live, die, eat, breathe, sleep....most of these so called freedoms are dependent on certain factors: do we have enough food? what if i'm run over by a truck? What if some asshole decided that as a part of his religious freedom, he's gonna sacrifice my ass for the greater good?

What we have become are slaves. The most liberal of us. The most independent of us. The most open-minded of us. We have become slaves to the norm, to the accepted, to a society that would have set standards based on what worked then instead of what works now....and guess what? We, the free, do what is expected of us. We're either expected to conform or rebel. We either agree or we don't or we agree to disagree, which is the worst of all choice because it suggests complacency, lack of courage, predictability. The worst kind of slavery is when a man would sell his soul to fit in, be accepted, be understood...only to realize that he who stands out is revered, feared, looked upon as a source of wisdom and many would sell their souls...attend conferences, pay millions of dollars on books he wrote to experience his brand of peace.

I spoke to a friend of mine tonight who taught me what i already knew...he made me realize the things i refused to admit, to accept...he gave me his brand of peace...a brand similar to mine...showing me that in a world where we are EXPECTED to to fit...it's quite ok to lose pieces of the puzzle. If tonight you decide to take a peek up my literary skirt, as loose and disjointed as this may be...I know that you get me;)

State of holiness....or madness?

On my quest to read 3 books per month, I picked up a little gem at the book store. Don't get me wrong...i LOVE to read...but for some reason it appears as if the authors of the 21st century have forgotten how to write. I get bored with most novels after the first three pages and the shelves in my room can attest to this fact; crammed tight they are...creaking and groaning under the weight of scores of books left to be completed...but i digress.

"The Zahir' caught my eye for one reason: The cover portrayed a woman's silhouette...lost, it seems, in a desert...her face hidden by shadows cast by the sun. I checked the author. Paulo Coelho, one i've never read but have been meaning to...the infamous author of the 'The Alchemist' who's prose had turned me off after the first page...but again i digress.

The Zahir, as described by Jorges Luis Borges, is visible, present, incapable of going unnoticed. It is someone or something which, once we have come into contact with them or it, gradually occupies our every thought until we can think of nothing else. This can be considered either a state of holiness or madness.

And so...this is my revelation.

We each possess a Zahir...something which refuses to leave our minds; someone that possesses our soul...bleeding thoughts onto a page in such a senseless, reckless and incoherent manner that we are unaware of what we write until we write it; nothing makes sense as our deepest thoughts are spilled, the carnage great as the war in our minds leads us to one conclusion. We are no longer who we thought we were. We have become what we were meant to be but didn't have the courage or the incentive to manifest before.

Does it matter that your blood runs through my veins?

Should I care that i inhaled your soul, tasting your core...promising myself that possession is not possible, that i am stronger than that insipid emotion...yet knowing that as I walk away my scars would be visible, bleeding...fighting to grasp onto a life that could only be a fleeting thought?

Should it matter that I see your face in my dreams; and i am afraid to close my eyes because when I do...all i think, breathe, feel see, hear is you?

Should it matter?

Realization

I think we make decisions knowing fully well what the outcome would be. We make choices; to be, to do, to think or act...or not and deep down we have some clue as to what awaits us on the other side. So I made that decision knowing what would happen...knowing where i stood, knowing that it would never go the way I wanted it to but instead trickle off into that stream that leads to hurt and despair and regret. We all prefer to believe that we're strong enough as we posess that prior knowledge...if it were that simple then life would be easier...but at the same time it would be boring and as humas we live for, eat, sleep and breathe the unknown. We live for those moments when we can step out without a backward glance; where we can step with surety towards that which we do not know...because the anticipation of the unknown draws us...pulls us...tempts us like a seductress aware of our weaknesses and using that to her advantage.
So now here I am unsure if what i feel is regret or if i had known that this is what would have been. What I do know, however, is that my life would never, ever be the same.

*sigh*

Today was a great day.

I'm often surprised at the way information tends to find me; tucked away in my lil corner with my headphones for friends.

With every little stone that i unturn...every leaf that unfolds, I become quite disenchanted with you. You were like a mystery waiting to be solved...and yet in a short space of time i was able to figure you out...now that i have...i'm encanted no more.

I'm not even surprised. I'm disappointed.

Alas! Where is the mystery in life? Where is the surprise? The unpredictability?

I'm bored.

Really

Can't you tell?