Depression ~ 0003 ~ The Clan
I don't often read fiction, which is ridiculous ; nothing is fiction. We stick vast blocks of self into our work, but we make it more palatable for readers. And fiction is more digestible.
We don't and can't know everything and we know very little about anyone else; few of us know ourselves well enough. Tomorrow our "world" can change. What is cast in stone may crumble. Facts are too temporary to be worth time unless one is a Malcolm Gladwell.
This is the age of disconcerting news, hard to process from a distance.
The clan of souls who fight dragons, and dragons are, I believe, frequent confrontations with the unthinkable or inexplicable and finding oneself at an utter loss as to how to process such mind altering encounters that rob us of cetainty and faith in the future. It sure isn't what it used to be.
However, I have been carrying this book about for a while, not reading it, just carrying it about for the sake of having it on hand when the mood takes me. I could be anywhere and I'd hate being bookless.
I am reading Paul Theroux's MY OTHER LIFE.
Any book I read is filled with notes and lines. Often when I go back to books, I am struck by how I have moved on, pr become more enlightened, or desensitised, to the onslaught of emotions that cause me to pick out lines that make sense to me when I first read the book. It becomes a bit of a diary of feelings, since I date my notes.
My first underline in this book is, " It was an astonishing three-part lie." In the Author's note he says that the man is fiction,. The mask is real. Who could not read such an author after that?
It is that astonishing lie that the clan faces so often. We know the truth, but to protect the credibilty of others not as strong as we are (or at least we think we are) we abosorb the thing like a head on collison and then go to bed and nurse our hearts back to normality. It takes time.
The second undeline is this, "I like this place because no one knows me."
A dead give away of a clan member. How often I enjoy being in places where no one knows me. I am not clear as to why that is. I am not secretive. I have no problem bleeding in the street. But, being unknown offers a kind of freedom from chaos.
I have, of course, underlined other things, but these particular underlinings strike a chord as I read them. The rest is interesting, in different colors and useful to other endeavours.
The world is shocked by the latest suicide of Anthony Bourdain. He decided death was preferrable at an age too young to depart. He could have waited a while longer. In one of the segments, on CNN, he expressed utter disgust. When one dallies in the world of others one is often disgusted and shocked into a mourning state because one feels that one did it to oneself. Being there makes one complicit. If umable to stop the disgusting from making us vommit, one becomes the sinner eater. One opened the door, disgusted feelings slammed the heart which came in search of something else. Joy.
But, I have spent two days looking at the man's face, bearing in mind his earlier life, looking quite older than 61 and knowing that such a life was damaged. Without the Creator, life becomes a painful inexplicable thing that just beats you with its stick of menace once too often, and then it's over. Done. No more. I get that. Food in different countries can bring a man to disgust. The things we eat were alive once, and beautiful. I knew nothing about this man before yesterday. I am not a foodie. I did however feel his death because I recognise the drooling beast myself too often not to know that one of the clan fell prey to it on a day when the three-part lie overwhelmed him. There is of course also the cosmic affect to be taken into consideration. The negative energy expressed in the world is becoming heavier. More Light is required to balance the scales.
May our Lord God, King of the Universe have mercy on his soul and save him from the fires of hell. Escaping life as we know it, with all it's thorns and thistles is no remedy for the sickness of our soul. We need the Creator and the angels of the day to help us endure until we have found Him properly so we can rise above the darkness and banish the Opponent from our safe place, wherever we find ourselves.
I am somewhat low at present, but the medications are keeping me whole.
Life is still beautiful.
Love and Light
We don't and can't know everything and we know very little about anyone else; few of us know ourselves well enough. Tomorrow our "world" can change. What is cast in stone may crumble. Facts are too temporary to be worth time unless one is a Malcolm Gladwell.
This is the age of disconcerting news, hard to process from a distance.
The clan of souls who fight dragons, and dragons are, I believe, frequent confrontations with the unthinkable or inexplicable and finding oneself at an utter loss as to how to process such mind altering encounters that rob us of cetainty and faith in the future. It sure isn't what it used to be.
However, I have been carrying this book about for a while, not reading it, just carrying it about for the sake of having it on hand when the mood takes me. I could be anywhere and I'd hate being bookless.
I am reading Paul Theroux's MY OTHER LIFE.
Any book I read is filled with notes and lines. Often when I go back to books, I am struck by how I have moved on, pr become more enlightened, or desensitised, to the onslaught of emotions that cause me to pick out lines that make sense to me when I first read the book. It becomes a bit of a diary of feelings, since I date my notes.
My first underline in this book is, " It was an astonishing three-part lie." In the Author's note he says that the man is fiction,. The mask is real. Who could not read such an author after that?
It is that astonishing lie that the clan faces so often. We know the truth, but to protect the credibilty of others not as strong as we are (or at least we think we are) we abosorb the thing like a head on collison and then go to bed and nurse our hearts back to normality. It takes time.
The second undeline is this, "I like this place because no one knows me."
A dead give away of a clan member. How often I enjoy being in places where no one knows me. I am not clear as to why that is. I am not secretive. I have no problem bleeding in the street. But, being unknown offers a kind of freedom from chaos.
I have, of course, underlined other things, but these particular underlinings strike a chord as I read them. The rest is interesting, in different colors and useful to other endeavours.
The world is shocked by the latest suicide of Anthony Bourdain. He decided death was preferrable at an age too young to depart. He could have waited a while longer. In one of the segments, on CNN, he expressed utter disgust. When one dallies in the world of others one is often disgusted and shocked into a mourning state because one feels that one did it to oneself. Being there makes one complicit. If umable to stop the disgusting from making us vommit, one becomes the sinner eater. One opened the door, disgusted feelings slammed the heart which came in search of something else. Joy.
But, I have spent two days looking at the man's face, bearing in mind his earlier life, looking quite older than 61 and knowing that such a life was damaged. Without the Creator, life becomes a painful inexplicable thing that just beats you with its stick of menace once too often, and then it's over. Done. No more. I get that. Food in different countries can bring a man to disgust. The things we eat were alive once, and beautiful. I knew nothing about this man before yesterday. I am not a foodie. I did however feel his death because I recognise the drooling beast myself too often not to know that one of the clan fell prey to it on a day when the three-part lie overwhelmed him. There is of course also the cosmic affect to be taken into consideration. The negative energy expressed in the world is becoming heavier. More Light is required to balance the scales.
May our Lord God, King of the Universe have mercy on his soul and save him from the fires of hell. Escaping life as we know it, with all it's thorns and thistles is no remedy for the sickness of our soul. We need the Creator and the angels of the day to help us endure until we have found Him properly so we can rise above the darkness and banish the Opponent from our safe place, wherever we find ourselves.
I am somewhat low at present, but the medications are keeping me whole.
Life is still beautiful.
Love and Light
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