What the silence hides...

The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss - an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. - is sure to be noticed.


-Soren Kierkgaard, The Sickness Unto Death


We lose ourselves... as if it were nothing at all. We stand, we lose, we keep standing, and by the time we notice, it is too late. The space left by the part we just lost becomes a desert, a void, or sometimes gets consumed by fear. Of the three, fear is the worst... an acid that eats away the rest of us slowly. Fear is the worst because it gives us enough time to ask for help, or remain paralyzed in loss. Either way, you lose.

Getting help is not something that builds your self, in fact, it contributes to the loss. For what you could once deal with on your own, is now something that you depend on other people's kindness and/ or the external environment. Which is very unreliable to start with. Paralysis due to fear is a spiral from which you never wake up and is infinite in its downward trail.


More losses of self. Self-esteem, self-reliance. It happens so quietly. Even killing yourself is not an option cuz it requires a self. And it's a waste of time to flog a dead horse twice. 

The end of summer

Some days are like this, when dark clouds hover and the higher you stand, the closer you are in danger of getting struck by lightning or some such. Like this.

These are the kind of days when you remember days like this, a hot 100 F, blue skies, about to jump into the nearest water body:

Regret of days gone by, however,  should be avoided whenever possible. Preferably with the best chocolate ice-cream, staring at a bridge. Like here: (pic taken while chocolate ice-cream was being consumed).

here:

And even if the night seems empty, imagine the stars trapped forever just for you:

Oh, and bridges are not for crossing. Only for staring, burning and bypassing. Crossing a bridge is lame, anyone can do that, and people who do just don't seem too happy about it anyway.

times like these...

No one should be alone. But people generally are. and nobody can help you except yourself blah blah blah. Whatever times these are, whatever time it is anywhere, you will always be alone. You always knew this.

But it kind of takes the wind out of you every time this realization hits. Feels like drowning.

These are the moments when memories of times when you were not alone seem like cruel jokes, lies. You hate yourself for trusting all those moments. Everything you believed in becomes ashes. Your fears are the only arms that wrap around you, and they leave deep deep scars. You hide them.

These are the moments when you know how weak you are, and you smash everything to pieces just to prove you're not. Every object in your room becomes a potential weapon. Every person a target.

Aren't you glad you are alone? Only you can see how you've fallen and shattered yourself.

A random conversation in the garden

"You know, a Moroccan carpet seller once told me that even in the most abstract carpet designs, if you look hard enough, you will see that it is divided into four quadrants. The first quadrant symbolizes desire, the second suffering, followed by resolution and finally morality. 


So first you've got to know what you want or what your heart desires. Not knowing itself is a kind of suffering, but once you know, things will happen that will make you want to fulfill, change, or give up those desires. Sometimes you've got to let things just be and resolve themselves, sometimes you've got to work at it. Whatever answers you get, at the end of the day, you will learn something. For better or for worse. And you become a new person with your own code of morality." *

That's what your carpet tells you. Sometimes the design is so complex and haphazard, all you see is a random madness, but always, always, there is a pattern underneath,  quadrants tangled up in the warp and woof of wild colors.

The carpet is a window of your life. Look at your carpet and see what it hides - in it, or what you sweep under it. It holds answers even if you don't have any questions.

*Thank you for the anecdote. It is not verbatim I know, but it's what I got from your telling. And thanks to another...

About dark places

For the thing which

I greatly feared is come upon me,

and that which I was afraid of

is come unto me.

I was not in safety, neither

had I rest, neither was I quiet;

yet trouble came.

-       Job

Everyone goes through storms, some ride the waves, others swim against it, some others drown. We all carry scars – some hidden, some on our sleeves. Those who seemingly have conquered bouts of varying degrees of agony hang on to things that seem to be an anchor… though painfully aware that such objects are not permanent. And so we create spaces – tangible or otherwise, spaces where we run to for safety and protection… from ourselves.

But sometimes these very spaces become a deathtrap. The friend we look to for hope may not be around, understand, or may be helpless to an onslaught of our darkness. The terrace where we used to kiss random lovers, sit alone, or carry out an endless bargain with emptiness becomes a venue of our death scenarios. The words we used to write are now poison-tipped blank pages. The songs of our good times are now just a reminder of the things we’ve lost.

Loss. Loss may be the reason. A loss of self-esteem, self-reliance, the self itself, causes and perpetuates the darkness. There is an inability to make decisions. For now there are no choices, only options. A terminally-ill cancer patient wants life / good health over death. But the options are: 1. More chemo and live a little longer, but with side effects, 2. No treatment and die in a month, 3. Euthanasia or some such. Not good enough. But this is it. You’ve got a kind of cancer in your head, there are no more choices.

Not being able to make decisions based on given options make the nights unbearable and sleepless, and the days unlivable. All thoughts focus on one simple question: is life worth all this? Then the doppleganger makes an appearance. (It is always there, but moments like this, we see it). This shadow-figure is a double-edged sword and highly unpredictable in its opinions, comings and goings. Most times, it is a silent, calm observer, watching as we work ourselves into a frenzy of madness or descend screaming or quiet into the abyss. Sometimes it aids and abets in whatever we do or don't do. Mostly it is a portent. It waits until the moment passes or until we come to the final decision point, and then slips back inside... us. The doppleganger is a crack of light that reveals our dark places and drives us either to our death or to our recovery by making us view the stark reality of our desperation.

What is the point of all this?? Oh about the dark places. Inside and out. The sometimes violent dark. The accusing night of enveloping fears. You will never know or understand until you're in it. And even if you escape for a while by sheer will or plain dumb luck, the memory will haunt your sleep and awake moments. The darkness will always be close behind… making the light in front of your eyes a fata morgana. It will grow until it forms a cloak around you. It will soon be the only thing that is real. 

It will consume whatever is left of you. There will be no place left to hide. There will soon no longer be a 'you' to hide.