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| december 2008 |
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| It’s Like This | 4:32am monday, 29th december |
This is what I feel that madness is sort of like. 
Click on this to get a larger version. It’s Giorgio De Chirico, a painting called “Metaphysical Interior with Biscuits”. First of all, for me, the madness was (overly) bright, like this, not dark, as some might imagine. It is a juxtaposition of curious things, which taken one at a time, may be quite ordinary — and seemingly for no reason, biscuits on top of all that. Yeah, metaphorically, it was sort of like that....
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| Merry Christmas! | 6:07am thursday, 25th december |
He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.
– Roy L. Smith
Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind.
– Mary Ellen Chase
Fail not to call to mind, in the course of the twenty-fifth of this month, that the Divinest Heart that ever walked the earth was born on that day; and then smile and enjoy yourselves for the rest of it; for mirth is also of Heaven's making.
– Leigh Hunt
Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30 feet tall.
– Larry Wilde
Isn't it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for — I don't know what exactly, but it's something that you don't mind so much not having at other times.
– Kate L. Bosher
Instead of being a time of unusual behavior, Christmas is perhaps the only time in the year when people can obey their natural impulses and express their true sentiments without feeling self-conscious and, perhaps, foolish. Christmas, in short, is about the only chance a man has to be himself.
– Francis C. Farley
For the spirit of Christmas fulfils the greatest hunger of mankind.
– Loring A. Schuler
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| free | 2:19am sunday, 21st december |
i am free
wanderer, out in the cold
drinking rain in the wilderness
home is here
where dreams have planted root
i have climbed long and far
now i see
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| Madness | 12:11am friday, 19th december |
Some strange things have been going on with my madness of late. After the operation, at home, I awoke and it had happened: I had become the Antichrist, and there he was, Satan, who was my father, commanding me to get up and work on my AI project, which was now part of the big plan for me to conquer the world. To bring about the Apocalypse. It ended with me getting a delay in the whole process, somehow, and I was released from being the son of perdition once more. That’s how all these end, insidiously enough: “to be continued”. But conversely, I am struck by how there always seems to be this suspicious delay, a delay in the Apocalypse every time, caused more or less directly by me. I suppose one must take the good with the bad, and thus we survive: in hope for the next day, getting past the evil when we can.
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| News | 9:38pm monday, 15th december |
Hello from Standland. Thought I’d let you know that the delay for this particular post is because I’ve been in the hospital, where they removed my gallbladder. Yes, actual surgery. The last thing I remember about that is them putting on a mask and telling me to breathe deeply. It took exactly two breaths and I was flat out out. I woke up in the recovery room and they kept me there overnight for observation. They were worried about me, they said later, because my gallbladder was “gangrenous”. Really, really bad. But all’s well and all that, since they released me late Monday morning. There was an angel there, during my touch and go night after the operation, who never lost patience with any of the times I complained about everything. She took care of me all that night, and I don’t think I’ll forget her. (Nothing romantic about it — trust me.) And so that’s what’s what, here in the void.
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| flurry | 12:48am tuesday, 9th december |
in the flurry of a snow veiled dawn, everywhere white
the painting of everything was finished as an untouched canvas
my eyes, as if born again, swept the vast, light newly whispered
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| Strength | 12:07am friday, 5th december |
I feel at times that I am on the verge of complete freedom from the madness. I find that I can summon reason and faith when the paranoia hits, and the visions turn awry. That I can withstand the voices. Surely, the medication is still useful in quelling much of what this condition hurls at me; but I am getting better, too, I think. I wrote in my private journal, “I will be free of you[, demon].” (Yes, the brackets are actually there in my private copy.) I have not given into the despair, where I think I am doomed to be the son of perdition. Not for some time now. Who knows if I can still hold on, in times coming? The tests become devious at times.... May God grant me mercy, may God grant me strength....
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| Wisdom | 4:27pm monday, 1st december |
I have thought myself sometimes wise, that I understand something of the world around me. I, who sometimes seeks cosmic guidance from the next song lyrics that comes on the radio. God made the world so that it would confound those the deepest in thought, and make it plain to children. And I find I am a child no more, and cannot recall how it was that I thought when I was innocent. How much more the fool am I, who has been outside the machine for so long? Or is this the only claim I have to true understanding? I seek a narrow way, in heart and in mind, of soul and of substance: perhaps not all is lost on me. Mayhap there is a child in me, somewhere, who can see still the wonder of it all. Is this not the meaning of what it is to be born again?
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