Saturday, April 09, 2005

Echoes of my Existence and Fading Soundwaves

I actually have nothing to say tonight so anyone who wants some good content filled with theosophical (theology/philosophical) jargon, move on. I am actually more interested tonight in letting my fingers do the typing because I am interested what they have to say.

Fingers, you disappoint me. You wrote about a topic I didn't want to speak about. Okay, let's try a topic I won't have to delete. Try again.

Do you often feel your heart closed, beating deep within your chest? Can you feel the empty space within the hollow of your heart? Can you cry at an instant's notice over sadness that has no name because it has been there so long you forgot how it got there?

I tried a yoga tape this week which was supposed to promote calm and increase flexibility. Interestingly, one of the exercises at the end included a chakra meditation. Since I haven't always been religious, I knew what that was and went along for the ride because I don't think there is anything wrong with it according to jewish law.

Do you know what I experienced? My heart chakra is closed. It has been closed for over ten years now. I knew it was closed in college, because I felt the change in me as the light was getting sucked back in and trapped. I lost a part of me and part of my innocence one day when I found out that not even the special people can handle my intensity. Everyone gets burned up by it. People love doses of it, in fact, in my past, they would crave it. But give it to them? Forget about it. Think about charcoal with smoke rising from the ears. I am describing my intense feelings and how I have yet to meet a person who can look me straight on and be able to receive it or reciprocate it.

My poor wife to be. What trouble she will have with me. I can pat myself on the back and say what a loving, caring, giving person I am, and I am. But for her to deal with my hyper-focused phases and my lofty reachable dreams and my intense thoughts, she would need to be an angel of music to relate to this. The twist is that the angel of music is the phantom, but the phantom is so often me. My feelings feign hopelessness. I don't think there is a person in the world whose shoulders I can rest my head on. There is nobody whose lap I can snuggle into who I can connect with and who will get me. Wow would she be the gift of all time.

Do you know I corrupt people? Careful reading my words, I think they evoke emotions. I carry potion-tipped arrows behind each word which metaphorically gets shot through your monitor and into your soul. Don't think you can duck. My thoughts become your thoughts; I am contageous. I think luxury, people around me think luxury. I think sadness, people around me feel sadness. I think happy thoughts, people around me become unusually chipper.

I wish sometimes that my words would be taken at face value and not personally by the person receiving them. People love to relate what I speak as if I am speaking about them and their lives. I often have to include a "not you" disclaimer lest they get influenced by my sharp tongue behind my perched lips. Keep in mind, I don't even think the word perched exists in the context regarding lips and tongue, but that is the word that I thought was most appropriate, so I used it.

It is lonely being the one who doesn't have a wife, a girlfriend, or a friend. I have friends, but nobody I can turn to right this second whose had I can hold. There is nobody that looks at me with love-struck eyes, and there is nobody that thinks I am the greatest thing that G-d ever created. It would be great if I could fill that void with my own egotistical thoughts, but I am so realistic that I see my faults without judging them; they are just there to be lessened or mastered.

I do feel my empty heart. It hurts me physically every day and sometimes I can cry from the loneliness. My sadness is never dark; I live a very cheerful life. However, my feelings feel like echoes of a sound in a room with nobody to hear. What a waste is a soundwave which has no recipient. What a waste is an emotion that is sent out but never affects anyone you love. These are just echoes of my existence. My sound waves fade, and my emotions dissipate as they have nobody to receive them. Why is it that sound does not maintain its volume when it echoes in an empty room? It gets absorbed by the matter of the planet. I sometimes wish I were absorbed too.

Sometimes when I talk to people, they don't hear me; my words are wasted soundwaves. I do not speak quietly, yet my words pass around my intended recipient not evoking their attention or their interest; they are spoken as if I am not there. It feels so good for people to notice me as a person with a pulse. It would feel nicer if they would want to enter my thoughts and my emotions so that my words might have some import in their lives. (Import is a word to signify importance). Yet to many people I am invisible. There are a few outside my family who take an interest, but they cannot cure the emptiness I feel.

Do you know that a friend of mine got married a few weeks ago on a Sunday, and I didn't even know about the wedding until the Thursday night beforehand when I accidentally called his roommate? Him and I had a pact that we would be at eachother's weddings. Do you know another friend got engaged and told everyone at law school but he didn't tell me? I found out this morning at the prayer service where they announced his engagement and the location of his engagement party. Last semester, a friend of mine had a birthday party and invited everyone at school out to the city except for me. For each and every one of these missed invitations, each person felt terrible that they forgot about me, but that is exactly it. They forgot about me. I am not important enough to be in their thoughts.

I say this not as a complaint, but as a matter of fact statement without emotion. I know my family thinks about me. I know my rabbi and his family think about me. I know maybe a few people from law school think about me. I'm sure people talk about me. But generally, I am invisible.

Then I wonder whether it is actually me that shuts THEM out. Do I block them out from my life and so that have no room to squeeze into the fragments of space I have left for them? Do I not let them in?!? My heart chakra is closed -- are the doors to my friendship and my heart also closed? I have such a difficult time connecting to people because many of those around me are stone cold, fully absorbed in their own overwhelmed existence. They don't even look into my eyes. Do I have fire coming from them?

Readers, I am truly sorry if you wanted for this blog entry to end a long time ago. There is no end to this thought because there was no beginning. These are lingering thoughts that ruminate in my head. I feel this way most of the time, every day. There are my predominant thoughts if I do not control them with focused subject-matter. Sweet dreams. Gut chodesh (it's the new Hebrew month of Nissan).

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