From the Unfathomable Self

Cut-off.

Look at the endless water in front of you. Still water. Riveted. Like silence before wildness, the surface is unstirred, till, from the depth, it comes and convulse your entire being; everything that you thought to be an ordinary peace is shattered and mixed up again in an uncontrollable convulsion. It hearts your heart, it breaks your soul, it kills your mind. And you can touch the pain in your chest. It is there. Dormant all these past years, it is now awake and moving. It is alive.

You are alive.

Like seizures, it comes and go, in waves; sometimes you manage to keep your head above the water, some other times you succeed in re-emerge and in some cases part of it never comes back. But every time you drown and, to be honest, it never goes away completely. You wish to drown for good or kill it all, but you tell yourself <if I drown I'll be medically insane and if I erase it all I would be spiritually dead>. So do you let it out?

Addiction. Nightmare. Obsession. Are you an obsessive? Am I one?

Mistaking it for an obsession, you psychologically wound yourself in a battle which is nothing less than a puzzle solving of your own self. An idea or a chemical reaction that triggers your mind? Where does all these sudden obsessions come from? How sick are you?

It is said that what you think defines you. That does not scare me; the fact that I am stuck in the middle of antagonistic feelings that I might not ever fall into place and antithetical worlds scares me. The fact I might imagine all terrifies me.

Blame. Control

You blame that fragile, weak mind of yours and become your greatest and most aggressive critic of yourself. You have lost the control. Because for you it is about control. And improving, and evolution. And creation. Though it may not be the case, you still feel like standing, waiting for something you cannot even name. You falter. You suffocate. You gasp for breath. And desperately try to respire.

Personal toxic air.

But it is toxic air, just enough to keep you on going to the next round. Then it starts all over again. When you said you won the fight, another battle comes: new weapons, different obsession, same enemy: your inner self.

Try breathing smoke. Or, being romantic, try look into the eyes of someone you love or admire and increase that feeling by one hundred. It makes you dizzy. It is like taking in too much air. You do need it, but still makes you suffer. Side effects.

And all that endless still water starts to boil and waves cry out. The process never ends as an underground river powers the entire water. As nature destroys itself and rebuilds itself, you are, theoretical, born to do the same. But you are more prone to fail because of the world we had created. Or, maybe, within the darkest corners of our mind, you find ourselves disordered.

I found out it is not about the two sides: sky and earth, night and day, good and bad, sun and moon, female and male, this and that; I do not have to chose between all of that. I can have it all. It is a matter of how you deal with who you are.

"Got to be who you are in this world" (Denzel Washington on The Equalizer).

Just a question of defining who you are. When I look at me, what do I see?

Breach. Dissociation. Balance

"(...) the division between illusion and reality is one to make (...) I think it says more about lack of knowledge of myself, the desire to escape, to flee who I am and not have the responsibility which I believe one has not to let everything go, which is different than accepting who one is and abandoning oneself to life. (...) To have intimate relationships and reconcile all that noise that I have inside myself to some place of connection with being conscious, this is good. I’m learning, I’m stumbling through life like all of us" (Marton Csokas in an interview for offscreen.com).

Loosing balance in life is just a confirmation of your capabilities of feeling. The line that separates the insane from those who won't hurt others or themselves, is what defines your strength. Either is you who saves yourself or someone else, either you show it or not, either you are or not part of the unfortunate ones that their battle never ends, you are. Yes, you simply are. Engineered to function even with errors, you surprise yourself with hope and dreams. An there, inside you, from every beginning to the every end, there are some connections you cannot define but forever linked to; from here you get your energy, your obsessions, your pain. All you need to do is to work with this emerging crawling noise. If there is someone that could fill part of the gap, it is even better. But till then, try not to muddle your water. Either you convulse it at the right time, or you fail.

Despite what others may say or think, it is far worst. It all comes from the unfathomable self.

When you look at me, what do you see?