Lately the Beast has had its tentacles in my shoulder. It is relentless and ruthless. This is familiar territory because ten years ago I was at this exact same point of misery. Writing and talking are my two favorite things to do and that is how I was able to pry those skeleton-like fingers out of my flesh then and now. Writing helped me to ease the pain and I thought I would share this with you.
Thin lines like spider webs are the only things that
keep the thin membrane that separates my logical
mind from insanity breaking in and letting the ocean
engulf my whole being.
Forty plus years have passed since that
first moment of madness entered my world
when I was too young to know how to
close the door. Now the room is too full and the door is broken.
Rigidity has encased my heart and
the persistent knocking of a welcome friend
long since muffled, falls
on deaf ears.
Oh, solitude is a welcome stranger I cry
but the bricks of my prison walls are
sleeping and my words cannot escape.
But wait, I see the key and it is beckoning
To me like the dancing finger on a skeleton.
(Carma Dutra)
The freedom to use the written word in any responsible fashion we choose is the most precious gift that anyone can possess. I bring this up because about two-thirds of the world would die (and they have and still do) to have this right. I know I am preaching to the choir but I think it is worth bringing up again from time to time lest we get too complacent with ourselves. Just a thought.
Write it down,
Karma
