You may believe that a revelation is some sort of epiphany, miracle, a Bible book with all of its fortunes and predictions. It is just a word until you attach yours or someone else’s content to it; and that includes the scripture.
Well for me, my revelations are the ones that manifest themselves in my weary subconscious at the most inopportune moments. Those times when my body is overcome with fatigue or some physical disorder—that is always the curtain call for all the detritus that’s been hidden away like the curtain that’s drawn back to reveal the Wizard—or in this case all of the thoughts or memories that you have ignored because of varying degrees of guilt, regret, a smattering of self-loathing for good measure, and general lack of good will for anyone concerned.
Each thought negative or it may be just pops up in your mind’s “letter box” under “unfinished business” or just WHY?
None of this procedure does little to set one’s mind at ease; it just seems to amplify the matters.
In the morning waking hours there is an overpowering desire to fight waking up to another dreary routine. This is followed by a reaction to the above that restates how fortunate you are that you have woken. A lot of good that does when you’d just as soon pull the covers up and over your head.
You lie down on your back with your hands crossed over your chest and wonder if you could will yourself out of the present anguish du jour. That would be such an easy solution, leave all of your worries and stuff for them to deal with—but what if this solution wasn’t as easy “you know” die with a smile on your face? The best detriment to suicide thoughts then takes center stage asking how are you going to do it and knowing your record of bad successes that it won’t work and you’ll really be “expletive” (F word).
Somewhere the wee small voice is heard reminding you of what the hell are you so down about? Think of the starving, fighting, dying, and terminally ill out there, and you have the gall to sit on your pity pot. Well, get over it; you’re still breathing, well cared for, etc., etc.
Okay. Okay. I guess you’re right, but why do I still feel this way?
The voice behind the curtain reminds you that you’re a pretty ungrateful SOB, but after all rebuttals it possibly seems that all my subconscious revelations have taken their bows, returned to the green room, waiting for their next “on stage” time; and I can finally get out of bed, put my feet on the cold floor, stand in front of the toilet, and get on with the day.
February 24, 2014
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