The Things of My Soul

The Things of My Soul

Life is hard.

People are strange.

Dreams can hurt.

But we live.

We love.

We dream.

I'd like to think that we live for dreams,

for love and beauty

for the pursuit of happiness.

I live for stories and stars,

for tales and drama,

for glory and honor and greatness,

for art and elegant simplicity,

for legends that span time and space.

Liberty.

Justice.

Philosophy.

A song of passion,

a love of life,

a sense of wonder.

I don’t know about others, but these are the things of my soul.

Hey, all.  It's been awhile, hasn't it?

Life is interesting, isn't it?  It's powerful and emotional, and sometimes it tears you up inside.

I'm very good at being dramatic.  Sometimes, it feels a bit silly to throw around such heavy concepts, but then…

Life is hard.

People are strange.

Dreams can hurt.

—•—•—

"Sometimes, people leave you halfway through the wood."

—L

Okay?

Okay?

I want to paint

Lines in arterial red

Don’t worry

I won’t make a mess

Just forget me, okay?

I’m not really worth your time anyway

But you’re so good

You’re kinder than I deserve

And I feel I might betray you

If I paint

Lines on my arms

That cannot be erased

Why wouldn't I do it?

You

Only you

So I’m sorry

I lied when I said:

I’m fine

It’s okay

Smiles of Stepford wives

But this is the truth:

I’m alive because of you

Please tell me you’re okay with that

This is directed at the people who have helped me most during my depressive episodes.  A special thanks goes to my friend, Kei-san, who was more or less instrumental in helping me through my first real suicidal period.  When I told Kei-san what I'd been considering, I got an immediate phone call, and we talked for a long time.  To call that "helpful" is a gross understatement, but I honestly cannot express in language the depth of my gratitude towards Kei-san.

So, thank you, Kei-san.

Thank you, Mother.

Thank you, Father.

Thank you, Silver-sensei.

Thank you, Kim-sensei.

Thank you.

—•—•—

"Answer: That you are here, and life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse."—Walt Whitman

—L

In the Details

In the Details

Devil’s in the details

is it so?

I look and look

Solar systems

Stars and planets

Continents and oceans

Mountains and rivers

Forests

Fields

Grass

Insects

Cells

Atoms

Ever smaller, ever smaller

I look and look

and slowly

I see God in the details He crafted


I love this world and my life.  As the reader might surmise, I am religious.  I was considering the phrase "the devil's in the details".  It refers to the fact that small things, when overlooked, can trip up large projects.  But the details themselves are divine.  Perhaps it is only in ignoring those finely-crafted details that we fall short.  That, then, would mean that "the devil's in tuning out the details".  In that vein, giving each detail the attention due to it is one step closer to the divine.

—•—•—

"Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect."—Matt. 5:48

—L

Proxy

Proxy

please

leave me alone

just

don’t

revive me

if I’m on life support

please

just let me die

don’t

pull me back to the light

please

let me sleep forever

don’t

wake me up

please

please

please

if something should happen to me

read this in reverse

I wonder if these have been overdone yet?  I think they're very creative and interesting.  Also, very hard to do.  I wrote this to get myself out of a bad state of mind after a string of events.

In my low moods, I am what I choose to call "passively suicidal".  I wouldn't shoot myself, but if someone with a gun told me to get on the ground… I would not kneel.

When my medication is in effect, however, I don't want to die.  Both ways of reading this are accurate depending on how much of my antidepressant is in my system.

Palindromes are cool.

—•—•—

"I don't wanna battle from beginning to end. I don't wanna cycle recycled revenge. I don't wanna follow Death and all of his friends."—Coldplay, "Death And All Of His Friends"

—L

To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern

I could have done it

I thought about it

I almost did it

I wanted it

I didn’t want to hurt you

It was never your fault

It wasn’t about you

It was about me

I

hate

myself

so

I wanted it

I almost did it

I thought about it

I could have done it

I could’ve killed myself

I mentioned that I had two very powerful breakdowns.  This is about the first.

I have never been very good at self-care.  Some days, eating feels like a chore, even when I'm hungry.  Moving feels impossible, and I know, lying there, that I am capable of moving.  My limbs would respond, given direction, but my brain won't send the signal properly.  It's almost like locked-in syndrome, but it's a mental problem rather than a physical one.

The lack of self-care, the untreated depression, and the stress of college drove me down a very dangerous road, until the only thing that I could even imagine helping was suicide.  What ultimately stopped me was the fear that I would disappoint my father.  In the end, I just laid on my bed and stared at the drawer where I kept my camping knife.

—•—•—

"I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel."—Johnny Cash, "Hurt"

—L

W.I.T.

W.I.T.

What is a girl?

Sugar and spice makes nothing solid

It cannot be on its own, cannot be something great

What is a girl?

Delicacy and fragility are impractical

A soft spine cannot support its own weight, let alone a friend

What is a girl?

Downcast eyes cannot see the beauty of the world

Downtrodden people cannot stand tall

What is a woman?

Compassion and strength go hand in hand

Kindness is not weakness

What is a woman?

Silk over steel, arms that lift and carry and scrub and help

There is value in hard work and teamwork

What is a woman?

Eyes alight with the wonder of life

A firm stance, a foundation that cannot be shaken

What am I?

I am a woman-in-training

Obligatory feministic poem.  I don't consider myself a feminist, really, not in the colloquial sense.  The traditional, original feminism, however, is something that I identify as a correct way of thinking.  A woman is human.  A man is human.  I wish that people thought in terms of "human", not in terms of "man".  Humankind, rather than mankind.

—•—•—

"Nothing is quite so pleasurable as doing the impossible."—Unknown

—L

Strength

Strength

to get out of bed weighed down with woes

when every step seems so small

insignificant in the face of the journey

to be kind even to the unkind

when every word is broken glass

shards shredding skin like wet paper

to eat what is healthy

when there is comfort to be had

salt and butter and sugar and death

to tell painful truths

when health is hell and life is a lie

a grinning skull for a face

to live with whispers

when De Sade sails in the Ear’s canal

ugly words hidden in the babbling water

to stand in shadow

when the world stands in sunlight

wondering what warmth feels like

A lot of things went into this.  Depression, anxiety… things I feel and think when my meds wear off.

—•—•—

"Life may not be the party we hoped for, but, while we're here, we might as well dance."—Unknown

—L

Bolts and Blots

Bolts and Blots

Oil and dirt

cool steel in my hand

My wrench is heavy

solid

the power to

create

repair

dismantle

Ink and graphite

cool steel in my hand

My pen is light

smooth

the power to

create

augment

unmake

Which is greater?

The wonder and joy of creation is… simply put, the most profound feeling I've ever experienced.  It is the love of God, of a parent for a child.  Building and basic repair may not be comparable to having children, but writing…  For me, writing a book is like having a child.  The physical process of writing is pregnancy and childbirth, complete with pain, horrifying moments where it seems the labor will never end, and joy in the completed progress.  By this logic, I have had many miscarriages, but every new story is another chance, another life growing in my word-processor womb.

It is a simple, pleasant joy, though rife with frustration and heartache.  Is that not parenthood?

—•—•—

"I'm thankful to be a writer because I've gone from someone who looks at mountains to someone who can move them."—Anthony Timperman

—L

Some poetry, because why not?

Fifteen

A teardrop fell upon my soul

Unseen, unnoticed, rust grew

an orange spot amid my freckles

and I never knew

how it would gnaw and eat

like an obsessive dog

slowly, slowly, slowly

my soul began to rot

I thought this would be the best way to start off my revival of this blog.  A lot of my poetry can be sorted into two categories: wonder and depression.  Obviously, this is about my depression.

I was a teenager when the depression first began to affect me.  However, I didn't get treatment for my condition until I was almost twenty.  This was due to my own shame over what I felt.  I had two very powerful breakdowns.  The first was the most frightening to me; in college, I struggled with suicidal fantasies and the desire to hurt myself.  The second was less intense, less dangerous, but no less damaging; I sank very slowly into a mire of depression while I was training to become a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

There is a lot of hurt and secrecy involved in depression.  If you suffer from depression, even if you don't think it's serious, or don't want to involve anyone, or if you're embarrassed, I would advise you to seek help.  Go to someone you trust and talk.  If there's no one you can trust, find a good therapist.  Talk to your doctor.  Go to a support group.  There are a lot of people out there who would like nothing more than to lend you a willing ear, to see you standing on your feet.

If your loved one suffers from depression and chooses to confide this in you, DO NOT ASK WHY.  There may be an answer.  There may not.  Listen and be kind.  Depression is like cancer; hidden, insidious, and lethal.  It is a disease, not a choice.  Your loved one chose to trust you with a deep secret; if you must say something, thank them for their trust and assure them that you love and accept them, that the depression does not change the way you feel.

—•—•—

"If things continue to be debilitating, seek the advice of reputable people with certified training, professional skills, and good values. Be honest with them about your history and your struggles. Prayerfully and responsibly consider the counsel they give and the solutions they prescribe. If you had appendicitis, God would expect you to seek a priesthood blessing and get the best medical care available. So too with emotional disorders. Our Father in Heaven expects us to use all of the marvelous gifts He has provided in this glorious dispensation."

—Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, "Like a Broken Vessel"

—L