Resumation- Elegy from the Nomad
THE SPEECH -as it was scribbled across the cherry wood wainscoting.
To resent is to desire a cleaner sand. Resentment is an albatross. Let it drown you.
My wrist have been freed from my own bindings. No longer do I need to carry suffering like a dancing bear. No longer will I.
As long as the rudder holds, I will not forsake the initial bearings, in disregard of the width of the rivers at the points that they converge. I know my way, sandbars or not!
The Fishermen are headless, heedless; yet have great bounty. The bounty is the return of the shards of the vessels from the origin. The vessels are broken, they always have been. The pieces shall be found and returned; there are always shards of disbelief lost on the street preachers claiming foreknowledge of the great fall. There is always a fall, it is inevitable. Gravity shall always prove itself master.
Could this be considered prophetic, or merely babbling knowledge that we all choose to ignore?
It is the pride that is preliminary, the fall that is inevitable.
While in search of the miraculous, or the singular honest man, only spare coins were found underneath the recliner. Diogenes searches. Damocles sweats.
There is instinct in shaming others, it is primitive. It was the original sin as well as the most recent. We shade our lives out of fear of the gaze. I am who I am and will not bow to the grievances brought to me. There should be more invested in the liberation than the suffering. Suffering knows itself too well to ruminate upon its boundaries, it creates itself as a labyrinth.
And you may ask-should suffering be considered the same as pain?
NO. I say to thee.
Suffering is the result of pain- pain is natural. Pain, as the reciprocal of suffering, is symbolic pain.
Free yourselves in your perversities, in your frustrations. Know your suffering like a new lover, but let it not breed avarice and pain back into your chests.
Pull back your beaded mattress hearts and velvet scarlet ribs and be that handsome golem.
We are all golem, hand on heart, we all are. We obey without question.
Hurled into a world, not of our own making. Our perversities are what make us alive.
Breathe FIRE and become that original sin once again.
It is not pain and suffering that are the twins...
It is pain and our very selves.
It is suffering and our perversities.