Sunday, January 16, 2005


A letter I wrote to myself over two years ago. Today, I'd rather pull it up again than re-write it.


Monday July 29, 2002

Dear Friend,

There are things that I have to say to you. They are difficult things to say—some of them elaborate and some such casual, abrupt thoughts that I fail to entirely capture and contain them before they dissolve away, leaving behind tender impressions on my mind. But most of them are thoughts well defined and clear. And a few of all these sorts I may now be able to convey to you.

I am…ah, I do not even find a word now! Lost? Confused? Frightened? Mute?? Yes, perhaps none of these but mute. There is hardly a description for what I feel right now...but there are allegories to explain the same.

I feel like an eternally frozen moment in which life comes face to face with death—being with annihilation. I feel like a wild animal that locked its eyes with the predator's; I feel like that head that turned to the call of Medusa. I feel like a rose that felt a snatching finger on its tender stem; I feel like a person eternally falling, falling, falling from a leap. It's as if this moment of approaching fate is being stretched...far into itself...all over the horizon of perception in a never-ending perspective—an endless scene. There is no seeing beyond or beside this picture. It is just this moment when suddenly, unexpectedly, life seems to quietly lift its head—ever so slowly—and meet the hollow eyes of death.

And then it begins, to never end, this drama, this endless act, this instance forever perpetuating and never ending.

And the feelings of this moment!!!...So many for just one life; so few for a moment that never seems to end. The sudden feeling of nothingness, hollowness, and a consuming pain. It's as if the every gate of consciousness and the subconscious opens; all the thoughts and ideas and feelings suddenly rush forth, for only as much life is left for everything and there will no more be a moment of restraint, and consideration, and deliberation. Everything pours forth; suddenly tormenting the mind and the soul. Something uncontrollable suddenly takes possession of the mind while at that very instance a distinct, and very existential, battle begins elsewhere in the sensory self between these thoughts: Am I to flee, fight, survive? Or has this fate become me? Is there still a chance for me to turn away, turn around, turn back...or is this it? Meanwhile the head of life slowly rises, rises, rises and reaches in to the hollow depths of death's eyes. A person falls, falls, falls, keeps falling from a leap...

I feel like a tree whose birds suddenly fly away in a nervous flurry as they perceive an approaching calamity to befall their abode. A tree so suddenly empty and gravely quiet.

The terror, and the blankness, and the fury—cold, blind, dull, and yet seething fury—of this moment possess my person. There is a dull realization of what one confronts, and the dying, dull, faceless urge to get away, to somehow not face this, to distance oneself from what is happening, to go in to an oblivion. A cold detachment, while life suddenly speeds up to live itself out before the end consumes all existence, suddenly envelopes the person as the last existential survival battle gets played out in the mind endlessly, inconclusively.

I so feel like an ancient temple that suddenly begins to crumble before an approaching if suddenly the entrails of the structure collapse and disappear, letting a fatal wind blow and whistle and gush through the standing walls...walls that are caught in that non-ending instance where they are about to give in but don't.

And my head slowly, painfully turns to the call of Medusa...while I am full of an aching realization of the fatefulness of my action. I turn around slowly...looking back in to an eternal darkness, a persistent voice, a fateful past that may also be the future. I slowly turn, turn, turn to stone, stone, stone.

...This is how I am being consumed, my friend. And this is the static turmoil of emotions I feel. And now you know, perhaps to some degree, the kind of agonizing, indescribable, faceless emotions and thoughts that have gained hold of me.

Somewhere, in the middle of no waters, I slowly take an endless plunge.

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