The one, the only
I bite my tongue as the compulsion arises to speak to you directly.
In doing so I would betray the impetus behind this desire for a pittance of immediate gratification.
To do this would be immature and unserious.
Now that I have eliminated this possibility, we can begin.
It’s not hope: it’s a knowing.
There may be hope, but this is not what keeps you alive.
The hope symbolizes the struggle. Because hoping isn’t knowing. Hope is something that spawns from too little knowing and too many lies.
This knowing is something entirely different. Something deep.
Something that sits far below the shallow waters you’ve grown accustomed to writhing and splashing in like a masochistic fish out of water.
I understand, friend. I understand your energy.
You’re writhing because this knowing is contradicted by everything and everyone around you. Even the people and things you “like” — even that which you claim to “love”.
The desire to abandon all, to dive into The Depths: it’s woefully within you.
It’s the most terrifying thing you can imagine.
And yet . . . it’s irresistible to you.
No matter how daunting, no matter how contradictory the desire may be to your current circumstances: it exists.
Dare I say you’ve even reached a point where the thrill of uncertainty is what attracts you to it.
Everything else simply pales in comparison, doesn’t it?
You want to feel alive. The purgatory is no longer acceptable to you.
Indeed, they may have crushed your soul, spit upon you, and demanded thanks. They may have held your head underwater for years on end.
But they could never snuff out your flame.
You wish to live on Mars and yet you’re trapped on this terrible, terrible Earth.
I won’t attempt to give you answers. To do so would be foolish and, quite frankly, disrespectful.
This is about acknowledging the truth of your knowing.
All that you feel: the angst, the unquenchable desire, the compulsions, and the unadulterated beauty that often arises — the hate, the dread, the love, and the feelings that send shivers down your spine . . .
They all arise from something.
And that something is this knowing.
Perhaps then, your true quest is to learn more about this knowing: what it means, where it comes from, what it is, what it’s not, and what keeps you from it.
The dark lights the way.
But you already know this, don’t you?
This is for You after all. Not the others.
No, you’re not like them.
So let us unabashedly and shamelessly commune with each other in this union of knowing.
There are no rules: if a guilty pleasure arises, it’s only branded as such by blind faith in false dichotomies.
Let us claim our right to rise above false morality. There needn’t be shame in feelings that flow from a well of innocence.
The reason for your inner conflict is, in fact, this knowing.
Because your environment is hellbent on making you compromise this knowing.
Everything, and everyone in your life, is a complete and total slap in the face of this knowing.
Nothing is worthy of it.
How could this not create conflict, sadness, depression, rage, hatred, animosity for the world, and animosity for yourself?
I know you won’t ask how to be free of this.
I know you’re bigger than that.
The dark lights the way.
What if the Way was one of madness? What if the Way was the opposite of nonsense such as “keeping it together”?
Why submit yourself to artificial constructs?
Aren’t you tired of pretending to be that which you’re not?
Where could this possibly lead to, other than mediocrity and boredom?
Wouldn’t it be far more interesting if the roof caved in?
What would be revealed to you as the tornado stripped the shingles away?
Friend, I am compelled to speak of that which I’ve seen. I really am.
But to do so out of element would be an impure and ineffective display of cardboard cutouts.
If you really want it — whatever It, is — know what it Isn’t.
Because at the end of the day, your It will never be the same as mine or any other persons.
In your quest for It, you’ve done many things, all of which you’ve deemed necessary.
You’ve strived to capture It.
You’ve set out to lure It.
You’ve sought to live in It.
You’ve subscribed to the idea of It.
You’ve studied, and continue to study, It.
You worship It.
You try to make yourself look like It (or someone who has It).
You’ve even attempted to use It — when you don’t really have It — as a vehicle towards permanently attaining It.
You’ve spared no effort!
And perhaps you’ve known or know you don’t have It, and instead have resorted to condemning It by living in perpetual outrage, cursing your fellow humans, and shaking your fists at the heavens.
It is of my experience this is mired in untruth.
It is of my experience the dark lights the way.
Attempting to forge copies of It and build tributes to It and sing songs about It and post pictures of It and act like you know all about It, are lies.
Throwing the “baby out with the bathwater” and luxuriating in depression, rage, and hatred, are also lies.
The dark, lights, the way.
I don’t care how painful and contradictory and evil and emotional when “emotions are supposed to be bad” it may sound.
You cannot arrive to your desired destination by pretending to already be there.
You cannot arrive to your desired destination by hoping to be there.
If you’re really The One, you will come to understand this. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow.
But one day, you will.
Through failure and pain and disappointment — you will come to know this journey isn’t what you thought it was.
And to the one who already lives in the darkness . . .
To the one who relishes in it . . .
To the one who knows it to be the impetus for his most precious art and life lived: I am inspired.
I bow gracefully before you, and have only this to say:
Bring the world to shame with your sincerity,
I will do the same,
And in doing so, may we paint the semblance of a smile on another’s face,
So that we may die with dignity and satisfaction in our hearts.