Wednesday, June 10, 2009

I'm feeling really weird today. It may be the week that I've had, but still. Lonely, sadness and anticipation. I feel like I'm waiting for something and I don't know what. What am I waiting on ?... love, death, the love of death, the death of love. Dunno. It's a weird feeling. I wish a wave would come and wash all these weird feelings away. I get this waiting feeling periodically. Not sure what it is all about. Do you ever have these feelings? Do you ever share them? How do you lose these feelings? I'm at a loss.

1 comment:

Thomas Arthur Schaefer said...

I've had these same feelings going on more than 3 years now. Mostly for me it's love lost. I'm never to concerned with death... that doesn't bother me, but a lack of love is terrifying as one grows older and at deaths door I would fear being alone in one hand more so than death holding my other hand. I struggle to support myself day and night and in the same motion prevent myself from getting out there to meet new people, get into new adventures, and find love. I work myself too much and still too little. It's a strange little world. You can sit and earn an easy living and be miserable for it or you can break your back doing something you hold dear and make nothing from it.

I often wonder if I'll ever get over the last woman I really loved. It's one of those questions I find floating about in my head late at night when I'm alone in the dark stillness of my home. Yes, sometimes I even cry. Was that it? Did I blow it? Is that all there was for me?

I'm lost most of the time now. I wear I shiny little attitude, but internally it's just not the case. My work schedule has destroyed my output to create anything I deem artistic and when I do get the chance I'm lost or find myself with a lack of time to do what I need to do. So I'm stuck with 2 loves in the hole right now. Art and women... or the work I can't produce to effect and the woman I lost. I went into a funk when I lost her back then and I'm still feeling it.

Artists have tortured souls my friend. You and I are leaves from the same branch... we knew that when we met that first night. We hold things we value too closely and still we take for granted the things we love most until they are lost. But that is the path, that is the mission at hand. "On the way to work." as Van Gogh said. Always on the way to work... every minute of every day. No time for natural emotions, too busy trying to articulate them with pen and paint. No time to engorge yourself on them ... too busy trying to communicate them to a deaf and dumb audience. I just look back at everything and shake my fist sometimes... but it doesn't disrupt the past and it never seems to rattle the future. I don't have any answers... I just relate to the situation. Life can seem bleak, but you're not alone in it.

Life is still young with us and it hasn't had its full say just yet. The best and the worst are yet to come. My hope is that I have someone there to share the good and the bad when it all goes down. But life doesn't always deal a fair hand. Sometimes you need to learn to stack the deck and sport a mean fucking poker face to get through to the last hand.