But no matter how long the night, dawn comes anyway.

Hmmm. That needs work.

Sometimes, when I think about it, I feel spooked out by how silent my life is.

I don’t make a lot of noise in other people’s lives and they don’t make a lot of noise in mine. I know a ton of people via my alter ego Fruvous and I am very fond of many of them but I couldn’t say I have a real connection with them.

Just as real a connection as I can stand, I suppose. I am a very damaged person who does himself no favour by hiding it so well.

When I am Fruvous, I do a very good job of keeping all the bad and the pain and the toxicity hidden so I can be cute and cheerful and cuddly and funny and waggy.

And in a way, I kind of wish I didn’t have that option. Were I not such an adept shapeshifter, I would have no choice but to express how I feel to the world. There would be no filter to protect others, no mask to hide behind, no alternate versions of myself waiting in the shadows of my subconscious mind to be activate by circumstance.

I would just be who I am, and all my pain and suffering would show, and goodness knows, someone might actually care.

Or at least understand.

Instead, I languish in the doldrums of depression, unable to generate the momentum to extricate myself from my deadly predicament because I have gone where no breezes blow and any attempt to create my own wind is as futile as trying to make my little boat move by blowing on the sails.

I’m part of the same system. Something outside the system – outside myself – woul have to provide the energy to move.

And the very definition of the doldrums is “the place where no winds blow”, abnd so that is not going to happen either.

The only solution would be to paddle my little boat out of the doldrums and into the wider world where the great winds blow, but I am too scared that those winds will tear me apart and dash me to pieces on the rocks because my little craft can’t possibly hold together when subjected to that much force.

Why, in moments I would be out of control, and we all know that if you ever go out of control, you die.

If you’re lucky. Otherwise, you will get carried by the tide of history helplessly forward to an unknowable destination without any ability to steer around all those maritime hazards that life throws at me.

Surely I am better off doing nothing than doing that.

But then again, what if that’s not the most likely result? What if all that would really happen was that I would freak out a little at first, but then, as long as I hung on tight, I would eventually get used to it enough to grab the helm and steer?

What if that is what normal life is actually like?

What if that’s what my life could actually be like?

That’s a lot to think about.

More after the break.

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Got some spare minutes so I figured I would do some extra bloggening.

Is that a real word? Answer : it is now.

I feel like when I express my doom and gloom like I did in the above, it’s mostly catharsis, but it also feels kind of like I am looking for an exit.

I deeply intuit that there is some basic and profound flaw in my thinking that, were I only to find and correct it, would throw open the door of my grotty little cage and let me frisk and frolic in the sunshine at last.

And maybe that’s bullshit. Maybe it’s merely the wishful thinking of someone for whom thinking is always preferable to feeling, and the real door out of my cage will be found only when I give up on endless self-analysis and learn to face my problems without the oh so clear lens of rational analysis to protect me.

And I am trying. The various lessons in Tales of Power by Carlos Castaneda are helping me. Like I said before, a lot of it is BS, but there is a lot of good stuff about the world outside of reason and the rational mind.

I do not, of course, expect that becoming thus illumined will make me a sorcerer who can teleport large distances in an instant or walk up the trunk of a tree like it was solid ground. But that was probably mostly an illustrative metaphor anyhow.

After all, consciousness expansion and enlightenment can definitely enable you to do things others cannot. They just tend to be somewhat intangible and dull.

Like being able to see the truth of a situation when others are mired in the delusions created by ancient social programming, or having deep insight into how someone ie feeling because of how well developed your empathy has become, or even being able to turn enemies into friends simply by not thinking of them as enemies but rather as people who do not understand you yet.

I have done all these things and more with my own brand of magic. Turns out that when empathy and reason act together, as one, extraordinary things can be done.

The sad part is, by choosing not to be a part of the whole team-picking us versus them mentality, you risk becoming, not without reason, mistrusted by all.

From their point of view, you are dangerously unpredictable, and who could trust someone like that?

I might know that I am always acting from the same set of principles, but they don’t. And even if they knew the principles, they still would not necessarily be able to predict how I would apply them in any situation.

So here I sit, innocently aloof.

I can’t join that petty, thoughtless world. I know too much, I see too much, I understand what is really going on all too well.

And yet, at the end of the day, I am still just a human being, with all the same emotional needs as everyone else.

I wish I could put down the gavel and be like everyone else. But it’s too late.

Guess I need someone willing to trust my intentions even when they cannot necessarily predict my every action.

There must be people out there like that, right?

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.