Soul's Hermitage - Compulsive Objectivity

I just don't know if it is freedom of coming out of my bathroom stark naked and walking to my bedroom or if its the lazy waking up at 11 A.M in the morning or the total control of the T.V remote or simply doing my own thing in life which fascinates me but it really sucks. Loneliness for me is believably a mixture of self-pity and that missing feeling of being with another - someone to hold you and share with. There are times when the house is a comfortable prison. There are friends who keep telling me how concerned they are that I don't go out much beyond shopping etc. However for most of the time I think I like it that way, and find pressure to socialize quite daunting and I don't know whether I would want to change things. I have even stopped going to weddings as I feel a physical pain and an urge to seek a mate. I prefer to just lock myself at home rather than go out and see couples enjoying being in love. Most of my friends have vanished and are on the verge of drifting away and my social life has vanished too for no one seems to want to ask a bachelor to functions with couples. Actually I find this difficult myself as everyone seems to be in pairs and I have suffered painfully in these situations to the point of feeling so isolated that I have become tearful. Fortunately I do have a couple of close, loving and faithful friends who make all the difference. They visit, and ask me over on a regular basis, they phone and text me daily which is all really lovely and very comforting.

I haven't been a loner all my life. But recently I've become an "empathic sensitive" and I perceive, sense, and feel things about people without trying to do so. I think I just "know" things. I simply feel them. Some or all of my sensory perceptions go beyond the normal levels into the highly sensitive or even ultra sensitive levels. My nervous system gets overloaded easily from receiving too much stimulus from others and so I need a lot of time alone to recoup my energy that seems to get drained daily by others. I need hence to spend 50% or more of my time alone, depending upon my sensitivity level with that individual. I feel that I've to almost live a hermit's lifestyle due to their ultra sensitivity to the world around them. You feel easily overwhelmed by this too much stimuli, and I tend to overreact to everything when this happens. I miss others, yet feel reluctant to accept invites to go places, and struggle with accepting them. I don't need physical love but emotional love I need and miss it dreadfully. I can wear my multiple masks in the plentitude company of others and just "smile" but returning back in my room the tears just huddle down and I long just to be hugged, to have some tenderness. That is definitely a big miss in my life.

I gave away almost everything I owned when I moved to a new flat and it was a lot. I wanted a new start. No old things to remind me of myriad past but a funny thing happened on the way to my earthly solution. I came with me. Now, I know it isn't furniture or pots and pans or the clothes that makes us what we are, it isn't even the heart that beats in us. What makes us what we are, are our thoughts!

In all, if you have lost someone special to you, regardless of reason, they say the best thing to do is to live well. If you're the one who was wronged in parting, it is the best revenge, and if you lost someone through no fault of your own, it is what they would have wanted for you anyway.

"I will go in quest for my soul's hermitage."

"And stillest birth. For oh, I crave and thirst."

"To hear in soundlessness man's fanatic protest."

"Against the destiny with which my soul is cursed."

The Fall of Angels

A darkened sky, the day that laughter died, I fell swiftly into night haunted by a sinking portent and in a quest for a city sunk below. Tears dropped like shards of glass in streams, like holy sinners, swept within me to fall in with the forsaken. Midst dark wet mists with awful fearing shadows I made bold a threshold. As the bright moon with silvered fingers played on my dreams that were too cursed for the day, I suddenly witnessed the snow flake fall that started it all. The visions coined like a furious searing heat which had knelt to kiss. A snow white line of divine freaks, in riot or in lust, they fell...

While I watched without revolt the play few beasts permit as if a circus lurched in, an act of promised delight, a tangled web of thirsty spun. Half naked in seemingly burial gowns they formed a formless white void stirring as in an invisible reproduction, they multiplied clinging together tenaciously and started swelling into a giant cluster; a fleshy shape with dark spread raven wings gyrating provocatively in a frenzied passion in an act of love swollen with life.

In the flighty chaotic darkness, curled within the silver womb, wrapped in the very wings, I saw a wounded creature dressed in grief. It arose with a deep cry which threatened to tear the night and came towards me. She suddenly held my shrouded hand, lifted and winged me deeper into the night.

The flight into oblivion reached the rocky clearing by a river bed. Her face shone like the now lustrous moon. She was beautiful. Her pitch black wings placed us lightly on the smoothest flat rock and collapsed. Hurt, debile and lame with dark blood spurting she looked at me with pleading blue eyes. The raven was sure to die with the sanctity of sin to rival hell. And with the most horrible, vile noise for something so lovely it implored and prayed for blood for seven nights of survival.

Reluctant though I was, a vale of dreams that it would seem I lowered myself on her lips. I felt no pain as the raven ate my tongue and the warmth returned in her body with a quiver

I now pace alone in a void for the dead overwhelmed by woe. And here, I've aged so lovesome of dread that I blaspheme is heaven

Enigmatic Darkness - Dry Rain

A crescendo of sensitive passion and bleeding love rain on the stigmatic reflection of darkness

Abruptly, the perplexed sun wanted to take to her heels fearfully, fast behind the fleeing clouds. As darkness prodded and couped the daylight painting my world with sudden stigmatic darkness, woman became fear and fear became woman. She screamed out unexampled disaffection, pulling even the firmest trees, uprooting the trembling minds, revolting with her lightening as the black dark wasting world stood static in sheer paralysis. I shut my ears with my filthy quivering hands, deafening piercing cries of my feeble heart with the eyes forming the river of death. I wanted to stretch forth my ugly unforgiving fingers and swallow myself.

It suddenly started to rain lashing on my nakedness with gladness afresh with pain. It found bountiful sores burdened with dark rubble treasuring the love. It started the rinsing and tenting hoping geneses. Bloodless stigmata embalmed on the primeval mass as treasured chaos vented the flesh drenched in fornication with a thousand years of terrifying silence under the stare of the waxing death-moon. The lightning whispered my name with the black candles dancing to distant music drowning past their flickering lure to the stigmatic darkness while the vigilant mud pushed me out of the tomb. I now lay among my rotten flesh helplessly succumbed by the riders of the night. The neigh of the horse, a throttle by the rope, I attempted to burden myself the pain and the love but the weight proved dense. I lusted for the wind and the flurry of leaves but they abandoned me with a laughter from high above.

The darkness in my eyes and the rapture in my screams sucked dry the ebbing wound. Even the moon didn't lend me her light and the darkness served to choke my life. The incessant pall of death surrounded me but this is not the part I wished to breed and I know that there will be no more death thereafter. I merely wished to stir the hearts of the wisest and the fools I wished to help and I hoped that my Kingdom doesn't feed off with their slaughter...

Awake in Quietus

I wonder if I can backwash into consciousness that I can tap into. In my mad rush fearing timebuffeted by currents so powerful that completely loses a sense of myself, I find that finally there is nothing but stillness. Through the still darkness there remains a flicker of light - Soft and lambent, calling on the strength and intensity I've long sought. I close my eyes fearing to see the violet light of the Oracle, whispering to me of things I've always known and have formerly doubted. Is it the time to season incandescence, to touch the fleeing wind and to delight in the seasonal change of seasons?

I sneak a look into the future with awaiting breath and cloudy eyes my destiny- Time stopped, the world faded away, my senses collapsed and the ropes started to fray. The warmth of knowing, gradually magnifying burn through the bonds and threatens to lead me astray.

I see the rotten worm crawl out of my soul grooving its way and creating dents and escapades for the incoming love. How will my soul weigh itself? How will age measure my time? Or am I to quantify time with age? Will my soul forgive my mind in loosing the time? Will my soul want to contain my rotten carcass with time? Or will I just lie awake in my quietus and experience the euphemisms of death?

Dance in the dark

Misconceptions of my delusional madness under some strange bewitching!

A dame in long flowing gown beckoned me once again. Dumfounded and stupefied, I bumped her at the horizon of desires pitfall. A creature different any I'd ever seen. She stood hallowed with a strange blue light as if to blindly follow her in her path between life and nirvana.

I walked forward as if the very pitiful and miserable shadows themselves had carried me. A soft trace of pale moonlight lightened her trace and seemed to dance all around her. Allowing me to be adopted in I now looked down upon my chest, and suddenly noticed the indentation that had been marked upon her. I saw what the creaturitic fairy had in her hand that seemed to have eluded and escaped some tme past. A simple orange ribbon much unlike the one I lost to the complexity of situation.

She turned back to stare at me with stern eyes like ice as she called forth again as if to follow. A chill broke my trance. The wind culled up and seemed to carry everything into a spiral. I found myself lifted up but unable to fly. I struggled and gasped and began to plunge for the sharp rocks below.

The heart that would seem so queer to the multitude of people but right in my eyes. It in itself appeared only to wish to go more nigh to this creature. Outrageously as if to guide my own deliverance. Mutilated, maimed and wounded, all I wanted was a place to place and gather myself and wait for the dawn.