Why am I so afraid of my past journal? So much fear that I have blackouts, waking up like just an hour ago crumpled in bathroom doorway, fingers in knots and hand busted. And when I return, I remember even less of the past. I am afraid of the blackouts. Why do they happen?
I fear the dark waste land called the Unconscious, the murders and the whores I have seen. The place where some say God seats enthroned in quiet and in solitude, deep in my soul. With pimps I wander in those places, pining for numbered women.
I fear it. I do not want to go anywhere close to the dark night, I cannot approach the bareness of thought. Many along the way of God speak of this journey into void as a necessity for advancement in God. The way of negation or something. But journal, life is already too hard. Sometimes it is so hard and I don’t want to go to the depths. No need to be Orpheus, I am already on my path, opening my heart to this world. I am not running away, I’m just not running to fire.
But still, I guess I know I have been called to this and I must pursue. Jesus went to the desert, Osiris was ripped asunder and thrown into underworld. I must make it through. For my brothers, my sisters, lovers of the world, the journey must be made and begin this moment, no better than any other. And in the darkness all these thoughts and torments will be vanquished, I will kill them all. Killing giants like a new and perfect David.
This, my sole destiny. ///