© 1998
UNTITLED, part II
The cycle continues on.
I’m further along than the last time I put pencil to paper, yet most remains the same.
She has moved on; grief has run its course for her. Life continues. I’m happy for her. Yes, she does still think of me, and I of her, though not as intimately as in the beginning. Her guardian I was; she has grown past that, she is her own angel now. I am adrift again.
Unlife continues as well. And all is good.
Moving on.
Much that has occurred since my last writing, though little of significance.
Learning requirements, having been met, recede. The principles implement themselves into my daily activities, deeper than consciousness, not needing to be thought of or worked toward anymore.
Evolution.
Toward perfection.
It’s been a while. Feelings remain even into darkness. Some that have lain dormant for quite some time are returning to my field of view. They are amusing. Analysis seems ineffective with these.
Has divine contact returned? But no, I have been forsaken. Or have I?
Perhaps I should change perspective.
Ah yes, I wanted to thank her. I’d forgotten. I must do that the next chance I get. If I remember, that is. I may.
Shall I go into the details? I think I shall.
The details.
In those situations, though few, a wonderful storm of emotion brews. Delicious.
Unexpected.
An awakening.
First, growing into my state I found a deepening of feeling. Myriad dimensions were added to pleasure, pain, fear and anger. Like walking into a Technicolor world, from the grays of normal existence. Awakening to this was strange, but as with all else, familiarity brings a bit of desensitivity, though that may not be the proper word with sensations this intense.
A dawning sense of oneness.
Confusion; my, the confusion.
Razor-sharp scythe of self-consciousness. Analysis reports this as illusionary, though feelings will be felt, real or otherwise.
Simply the fact that I am again writing says much, in and of itself.
The rainbow may one day be complete; I can feel the colors filling in again.
Contentment? Seems a foreign concept still. Progression.
Time marches on.
That used to mean something to me, when I was human. There was never enough. I wished for more. Be careful what you wish for…
Nightmare creatures, playing their silly games. The world at their fingertips and they continue to play their games.
Fine line between dream and reality, vision blurs. I’ve touched on this before.
Touched.
So I am, so shall I ever be.
More later. I must be slightly more active in my environment, or so I’m told.
Time passes.
Aaaahhh. Slept like the dead. <laugh> That was almost funny, actually.
I did remember to thank her. I do not think she really understood, though it matters not. It was for me more than for her.
I am writing again!
Inadequacy, insecurity, self-destruction. From where do they stem? And why do these too gain color and dimension in the “new life?”
As stated before, pain signals growth.
And I am writing again!
Ooh, self-loathing. Once again, I ask thee why.
Or in better words, for what reasons? Methinks humanity took quite a toll for so many years.
Now love, coupled with time, can do wonders. Wonders which I am only beginning to comprehend. This journey should be rather interesting, seeing as I have an abundance of time.
Let us explore this negativity some.
Some thinking is very bad.
Scratch that.
Over-analysis of thinking is very bad in some cases. That may be closer to my intent.
How about I just say this: analysis of negativity is bad. That may be a better way of putting it.
I think a lot more has to be said about this. It’s not easily put into one sentence this morning. Or any morning, for that matter.
Guess I should just dive in and start clearing it all away.
I have love of all, why long for the love of only one? That special love, can it be? Exploration.
Wha'cha think?