faith

I want to say that things have been tough but I'm ok. I want to say that things are ok, but tough. I want things not to be tough but not to be trivial. And in the end all I need is the validation that everything is in the hands of some great universal universe to keep me safe and warm.

And I suppose that's what faith is. That there will be warm water for a shower, sweet music to dose to between AM alarms, tenderness fleeting, a moment of eye contact, an long awaited orgasm, laughter you didn't expect, and achievement, progress and peace.

Having faith is the problem. My charmed life has been bittered. The comfortable isolation echos silence. The cosy apartment has a cold leak from the icy windows. Security becomes sterile and stale and banal. Physical prowess degrades into depression and back injury and hatred becomes pain and pain becomes scares and scares wieght.

and all boils down to forgetfulness. In faith. Love. Sensitivity. Determintation. And faith is lost so life is lost.

But how does one regain faith in everything that was holy and dear that now has pieced me, has split my soul into two sides of the universe?

How do you marry thinking and feeling when neither seem to satisfy?

But I know. Spring is coming. Death almost certainly brings about new life. Tomorrow will happen whether or not I stay in bed or achieve great things. But what do I do with the knowledge? I have done what I thought was right and I have done what I wanted to do. What is next?

I don't know what I want. Except, To cry, mourn, to stone to death all that I hate in myself so that I can bleed out and become something new. And to sense some joy in the universe. To believe in the power of art again. To find god. To find love and have it find me back.

That's all. But that's enough.