Deadlocked

Hell1

I lost my liberty
Who will rescue me
I wonder what will happen
If any door will open

This day is going to be
The same as yesterday
Unbearable melancholy
Unless I find a key

There’s a reason why I’m here
“It’s your fault” he told me
I wanted to be free
So he locked me in here

At first I had no idea
What was going on
I thought something
Had gone wrong

Now he’s watching me
Wondering what I’ll do
I can’t even see him
He blindfolded me

I know he’s near me
I hear him inhaling
I hear him exhaling
He won’t talk to me

It excites him to watch me
I feel naked and empty
I think my vulnerability
Is what he wants to see

He enjoys it
He delights in it
He touches it
I don’t get it

He won’t whip me
He protects me
He comes closer
Then he kisses me

I shiver and wonder
Does he heal or make me suffer
He could hurt me badly
But he seems to know better

I wish he would slay me
But it is very unlikely
I need to figure out
What love is all about

Advertisements

To Bitch or Not to Bitch

Bitch1

I feel like bitching but I don’t know what to bitch about.

To Bitch:
To criticize spitefully, often for the sake of complaining
rather than in order to have the problem corrected.

There are too many things to bitch about, I don’t know where to start.

Bitch2

I could bitch about this proverb.  No, let’s just focus on the first word.

Life.

What’s the problem with life?  Let’s talk about human life because it’s the only one I’ve experienced so far.  The problem is that it doesn’t come with an instructions manual.

I was given something that seems pretty awesome on the onset, but then after a while, everything starts to fail.  You spend your time repairing things that keep breaking.  Everything breaks down eventually, everything!

And at the end you die.

What a bitch!

Hell on Earth

I write

My body has a small defect that greatly affects the quality of my life “in the body.”

It’s sad how such a small glitch can ruin all the fun.

It’s not something that can be fixed or cured either.

A human body is meant to move. When we look at how the body is made, it’s obvious that it was made for movement. We are not plants.

Imagine if there was a defect in your body that would cause you to feel nauseous every time you moved. My body has this defect. The more I move, the more I feel nauseated, sickened and disgusted.

In time, a person who suffers from this defect becomes severely depressed. I was on a very high dose of antidepressants for many years, but in 2012 I realized that it was not worth it. An antidepressant can relieve depression but it cannot fix the source of the problem.

The medication actually caused more problems than it solved, so finally I decided that I would rather live with my physical defect than swallow one more pill.

I’m quite healthy but I can’t say that I am happy. I have a fit body. I can technically do any physical activity I want. The problem is I don’t want to. In order to feel good, I have to move as little as possible. I’m in a very weird kind of predicament!

The defect is called a balance disorder. It’s almost impossible to notice. I sit quietly all day, refusing to do almost any kind of physical activity, and people think I’m weird and negative. My family knows, but they keep forgetting, or sometimes I get the impression that they have no idea how I feel when I move.

If you ever wondered why I live inside my head, in a fantasy world with imaginary friends, now you know. What choice do I have? I get no pleasure from physical movement. Life in my body, in this physical world, to me is hell.

Move a Mountain

mountain

The circumstances of my life have brought me to a place where I can no longer enjoy moving around physically.  Life decided to teach me a lesson.  It hit me on the head and said:  “Daemon, be still and know yourself.  Travel within yourself.  Find out what you are made of and what you can do apart from moving physically.”

So here I was, suddenly, having to learn how to use my mind without going crazy.  Thoughts left unchecked fly all over the place.  Thoughts are like wild animals.  I had to learn to examine them, restrain them and domesticate them.

Writing is the art of manipulating your chaotic thoughts, aligning them, arranging them next to each other to give meaning to everything.  It’s not as easy as it looks.  It takes years of practice.

While doing this, I realized that real power is not in my ability to move my body, but in my ability to control my own thoughts.

The physical world is the result of what happens in the non-physical realm (thoughts, dreams, intentions).  Nothing in the physical world would exist if it hadn’t first taken form in one of the unseen worlds of the Mind.  The seen is nothing but the crystallization of the unseen.  The real action takes place beyond everything we can see with our two eyes.  It’s all in the mind.

We say of the athlete that he is active and of the philosopher that he is passive.  But when you think of it, which one yields more power?  It’s easier to control the physical body than it is to control your own thoughts.  Is the physically strong man exerting more effort than the thinker?  If there was a contest between the two to see which one could move a mountain first, who do you think would win?

The person who thinks creatively has a better chance of accomplishing anything.

 

Are You Bored?

bored

If you are not bored, then don’t read this post because it contains only boring thoughts from a bored person.

What could I do that is worthwhile, fun and useful, on this rainy day?

Don’t bother suggesting anything that requires movement, because I can’t move.

I’m disabled.

Never told you about my disability, did I?

*sigh*

Ok, I’m going to tell you:

One day, I lost something.  One day I had it, and the next day it was gone.  Things have never been the same since that day.  It happened in 1999.  On the 10th of June.  That day, I lost my balance.  I don’t even know what caused it.

Most people don’t even realize that they have balance.  But when you lose it, holy shit…

Without balance, you can’t walk.  I had to re-learn how to walk.  But the worse thing was what followed:  depression.  I mention depression in many of my blogposts but not what caused it.

This disequilibrium makes me feel a little drunk most of the time.  So if you ever wondered why my posts were unbalanced, now you know.  My balance system is broken and it can’t be fixed.  You want the technical details?  Boring!  But this is a boring post so I’m going to tell you.

The sense of balance is in your inner ear.  Ever heard of equilibrioception?  Me neither.  We all think we have only five senses, but we have more.  The sense of balance is one of them and it is definitively being taken for granted.

When the sense of balance breaks down, it causes dizziness, disorientation and nausea.  Motion sickness if you will.  It sucks.  I said earlier that I couldn’t move but it’s not true.  I can move as much as I want, but it makes me feel sick.  The more I move, the worse it gets.  I feel like I’m going to vomit.  Loud sound also affects it for some reason.  When there is too much noise, I feel like barfing.

I learned to live with it.  I had no choice.  I can walk but running is out of the question, unless I want to get hurt.  I feel best when I don’t move and all is quiet.  Boring, isn’t it?  This is my life.  I write because I don’t move much, so I think and dream a lot.  I don’t like watching TV so I have to use my imagination to find satisfactory entertainment.  What else can I do?  Oh, I read also, but I prefer to daydream and write creatively.

So this is my disability.

What is yours?