Notes from the Inside

Notes from inside

The day has come. I am brave, but find little satisfaction at my determination. I have so absolute a vacuum to fill, but the subject of this aberration of my heart relinquishes its interest in me.

Subjectively, it could be said, that I have not shown those attributes that polish a man’s persona, but rather begets a dull, undetermined and wishy-washy character. Characteristics that would show callow, or otherwise shallow interest in the care of those closest to him. A persona distant from true love. An individual incapable of close examination. Fearful or persecution and character rape and identity fraud. I am the one to which these subjective admonitions could be said of. I weep candidly. I turn to the inside of my skull and quake in the resonant vibrations of such accusations. I plead with my very soul that it cannot be. I cannot be the man in this picture of skewed perception. I cannot be. I simply cannot be.

Alas, I find no solace of my own minds conclusions. I find no solace in the perception that I have been demolished by my own construct of personal resilience and absolute honor. I have no peace in mind that my words ring absolute truth. I lie. I manufacture subjective truth to other wise cover the truth of my persona. I have withered the remnants of a carpet of such frayed edges to be unworthy of the love it wants to cover. Holes allow such simple actions of candor and dependence to not get to the woman of my sole. I find such my hands utterly tied. Unable to break free of the hold such emotion.

I bring my needs to the table again. They are heard. Sympathized with. And bashed on a rock till no remnant of hope is left to prove such needs are left. I cry openly now. I see no way to convince the object of my desire that I am worthy of her grace, beauty and life. The bullet of honesty punches a hole through my very being and shakes me to the foundation.

I see no flowers, or even the sun in the place I dwell. I see little in familiar faces. I hear, but not listen to all the advice of years of experience near me. I crush inward till the exterior is only recognizable to those who know what I am. It is evident to all who and don’t know me that my soul is in peril.

I spoke to god a couple of times. I tell him my needs and wants. Ask such aid only the creator of all could provide. I apologize immediately. So many others need him so much more than I. My request continues as if I seek from somewhere within. I ask that he take pity on my shallow request. That he find the nature of my request filled with only the most solid of my being. That my request is not merely desperation, but relief from such horrific pain.

To have such a loss when I have found my clarity is such a mess. I find myself self doubting all I have accomplished. Question my very value. I am left with this last summation:

I am a man of quality. I don’t believe in untruth. I search out the truth. I love, not for my own, but for the sake of others. I love to hold and cherish all that is most important to me. I fail at little, but am first to admit my wrongs and make right. I care for the nameless stranger and hate the unrepentant. I give to watch happiness and joy, and do so to a fault.

To my darling I say this. I have what it is you need. I just need help up the stairs to the house of your love.

I hope this finds no one un-interested. Guess I just needed to vent. Been so long since I put the flesh to my blog.

Time it was more active.

Markus