vessel c. by ruejacobs 3/6/10 8:15 -------------------------------------------
Every moth loves the moon
Something unattainable and glowing just out of reach
Let them come upon a chinese lantern, though
And it is a holocaust
Itís the flame that does them in, my dear
Itís the tiny motor in all of us
Driving us to desire
I know that want will burn your flesh
And singe your wings, small one
Learn to expect nothing
And you will feel neither disappointment nor despair
I learned to stop battering myself ragged against my own desires
I mastered both my want and my will
Call it suppression if you please
Your own dissatisfaction shines just like moonlight in the palm
It is just as tangible
Closed hands are proof against hunger
Open hands are only illusion
They are full of hope and nothingness
A nirvana of misery
My own hands curl like ashes in a fire
In the flame of that lantern balanced precariously
On sudden wind
Anything could touch it
But nothing would remain
- wanting is a slow burn experience.
- singed wings make you fly funny. up and down and all around.
- expectations always lead to disappointment and despair. which lead to heartache and pain. or somewhere in the middle.
- finding balance is hard.
idk. life is this process, yes? always learning something. and sometimes it's hard knocks that get us into flying around the way we do. how do you curb want and desire and find happiness in the in-between? how do we find contentment in what we have? how do we know what is real or imagined? how do we hold onto those parts of self and not get totally lost in the process? how do we accept what is right in front of us and not want more?
nonsensical? i never make sense at all. ever. so i hope this suffices.