| Saturday, August 31st, 2002
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 5:24p - A less than triumphant "return" This month I have tried to let thoughts come, unbidden, unforced. Yet in this time, I have found myself in one of three states: busy, tired, or drunk. Oftentimes, it's been a mixture of the three. That is not very conducive to resolution...and everytime I sit...all of these things come to me...things that require action, or progress, or *something*...but i am powerless. The more i try to allow change, the more i cannot lift my anchors. Something...is happening. To my life, my heart, my soul. It is beyond my control or my comprehension. This is something I have dreamed of for a very long time, but I am afraid to allow this possibility. All signs point towards... I am afraid that i see nothing more than a product of an overactive imagination, or a pent up desire... It weighs heaviest on my mind. Heavier than my thoughts on reality and ignorance and bliss and truth. Heavier than my thoughts on karma and enlightenment and sacrfice. Heavier than my musings about life and hope and my future, about my plans and my dreams and my life. I see something so plain as day yet I am powerless to accept that it might be real. I refuse to accept that I could be so lucky as to find what I have sought for so long. I have been so long without that I honestly believe it will always be as such... Yet hope remains. Hope is such an illogical thing, really...all it does is postpone the facts of the present. Hope is just a way to push through pain, through longing, through confusion. Hope is all we have to keep ourselves alive...to believe that really, deep down, despite our fears, our misplaced beliefs, and our stout denial of reality, that what we want with all our hearts really DOES lay just past the crux, and all it takes is one last dynamo... And everytime it seems we are free climbing, and the move is an impossible one, so we hold something back. and then we fall...only to realize the pro we placed was solid, and all we are left with is a bruise or two at most. Yet i still cannot see the rope, and i still cannot imagine the cams. I have too much hope, and too many vivid dreams to keep myself sane. What i see is perfect, so...seemingly unobtainable...I cannot even see the ground from here; in part because of my strength, in part because of my fear, and largely in part due to this hope that has no place. So in the time since I said "goodbye for now" I have made no progress. None. In fact, i face more questions now than I did then. It is almost like, by forcing myself to live without this forced medium of thought, the true... the *real* search has come... This "return" is just a progress report...and I must say that I seem
to failing quite miserably.
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