Mystified - a Song of Myself - continues

Mystified

Time passes swiftly during daylight hours- however, the long hours of darkness seem to drag on forever. 

The first month of this New Year is quickly departing- the past year left me drained and confused. Its upending of a way of life has been devastating. There were many days that bewildered me with their normalcy; they were received with gratitude. Oftentimes, the days were shaded with drab shadows that hung over my very existence, smothering me until my breath was hard to find.

Depression follows desperation; at times, sitting here staring out to sea, I wallowed in its sweet anguish like a pig left to wallow in its own feces, sinking further and further into self-examination. Why do I think the things I think and feel the things I feel…

Often, weeks passed under a dark shroud of mystery that left me wondering if this would be the day that ended it all. Would a bomb drop out of the sky and end this complete an utter misery that plagued me…

I do not pretend to be rid of the darkness- I am not able; it has become a part of me. At times, I let the darkness consume my mind and dictate my thoughts. My obscurity- that of being one in many that are suffering the same change of venue is easily accepted. Time marches on- no one can stop what is happening… not even God it seems.

Worrying a colorful image of an unchangeable past is an ominous blurry vision of the present; my heart and mind is in a constant state of fluctuation and confusion… occasional clarity of thought lends a coherent method of management of life.

Of what the future holds, no one knows exactly. And without verbalizing exactly what keeps plaguing my thoughts, I cannot be true to myself.  I know that it will be neigh-on impossible to stop the progression of my thoughts from light to dark, to darkest dark.  It’s as if they come and stand over my shoulder, dictating what they want me to think and feel and put forth onto paper…

Mystified - a Song of Myself - continues © 20 January 2015 Susan C Beck aka Lila Beckham

Tethered - a song of myself

Tethered; chains of pain and misery - heavy of heart, pupating, subjugated. My soul yoked to an earthly body that no longer serves a purpose, other than to exist. A much older version of my once youthful self, I persist; hopeful that circumstance will change. Hanging on to what might’ve, could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve been. Longing for salvation from an aging, pain wracked- touché, a tortured existence. Karma- what a bitch- it hits hard; payback for a wayward teen who wanted to runaway from it all. To run away from all who want to tell you what to do. A fraction of my former self-remains, buried deep within exquisite memories- lies, all lies; my life was never quite exquisite. There were a few pleasant days and pleasurable events destroyed by hellish ones that dragged on and on, for eternity it seems. I have outlived all my lovers but one and many others in my life I cared about, only to wonder why… I lie awake wondering what keeps me waking in the dawn; surely, it is not the will to die but to live. Even in pain and misery, I rise. Obligations wait - defenseless little ones and animals that depend on others for their survival- why am I the only one who cares; I care too much. I long to be selfish, careless, rich beyond the gratitude of a child who thinks the sun rises and sets over my head. I long to think only of my wants and needs- they’re never met. A bluebird alights outside my window- its eyes stare, vacant- does it enjoy life? The evergreen bush sheds its old leaves only after new ones have sprouted- does it take joy in renewal? Rebirth in the spring, after months of dying and decay- does the joy of spring ring true. What is the purpose of life? Surely, it is not to live in misery… They’re questions I will never know the answer to; never get the chance to fully explore… I want to live life the way it was meant to be lived, not tethered to a guilty conscious when I gather joy from what I am doing… I want to rise when I wake without an obligation beyond emptying my bladder- beyond… what. What else is there? Nothing; there is nothing beyond a pallid penal existence strapped into the Queens Throne I’ve positioned myself in… always wanting to be- having been bred to be matriarch of the family. As the days grow short, I grow weary… tired, so tired… but I cannot give up; maybe there is a chance that one day, one day I will rise up and cast off this self-positioned crown; cut away the chains of misery and run un-tethered through a sun-drenched meadow… 

Song of Myself - Tethered © 14 Dec 2014 Susan C Beck aka Lila Beckham