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6: 19: Facing The Archetype
Excerpt 19 from Journal 6, 'Becoming My True Love'
-From 'Journals To My True Love, Part 2'
My Love, as I see in you my pure desire for love, so do
I see in you all whom have harmed and disturbed me...
You resemble them all in one way or another, this is why
you represent the irony of true love and self love...
I don't love myself, so I am afraid to love you in the same
way, I feel you have the potential to damage me even more
than I already am...
I feel you can't exist as long as I do, it is a paradox that we
would complete each other in physical form...
You aren't physical and I don't even know if I am, so how
can I believe in the integrity of you, it presents a problem...
I want to cast you away, to cast us both away...
I want to relinquish the need for love at all...
I want to no longer have to relive the rejections that are part
of human love...
I just want to put you in a box like a stack of papers that I
have penned, that is all you really are anyway...
My hands that do the writing give you life to breathe, but
you are anaerobic at best if I am still and passive...
I am compelled to avoid that stillness, yet I deeply want
to surrender to it hoping you will appear there somehow...
I am afraid you won't and I need to face that at last...
You represent nothing but those whom loved and lost me...
You are an archetype, a Superman, a Jesus, an angel of Truth...
But where is the truth in your existence, or in mine...
You are all reason to guide me, yet it is the blind leading the blind...
I must face the blind truth; you are an illusion, an outbreathing of
my own existence like my own carbon dioxide...
We call breath a real object, yet we know it is in a temporary state
of atoms in chaos that ever change...
And so do you ever change with my own transitions, my chaotic one...
How you were born of this very chaos to feed a forest of imagination...
The universal nature of your archetypal self is what you consist of...
And I am dying to break free from these shackles of identification of you...
I want to be mindless, to become without barriers and predispositions
and stereotypes...
How the mind is a trap for the hungry mouse who never sees the
crumbs at his feet because he is too busy looking ahead...
Even looking back is that same trap...
He must learn not to look, but just feel...
I feel nothingness, therefore you are nothingness...
We can only become what we ever were to begin with...
And I was nothing but a mist once, and so are you only ever that...
-From 'Journals To My True Love, Part 2'
My Love, as I see in you my pure desire for love, so do
I see in you all whom have harmed and disturbed me...
You resemble them all in one way or another, this is why
you represent the irony of true love and self love...
I don't love myself, so I am afraid to love you in the same
way, I feel you have the potential to damage me even more
than I already am...
I feel you can't exist as long as I do, it is a paradox that we
would complete each other in physical form...
You aren't physical and I don't even know if I am, so how
can I believe in the integrity of you, it presents a problem...
I want to cast you away, to cast us both away...
I want to relinquish the need for love at all...
I want to no longer have to relive the rejections that are part
of human love...
I just want to put you in a box like a stack of papers that I
have penned, that is all you really are anyway...
My hands that do the writing give you life to breathe, but
you are anaerobic at best if I am still and passive...
I am compelled to avoid that stillness, yet I deeply want
to surrender to it hoping you will appear there somehow...
I am afraid you won't and I need to face that at last...
You represent nothing but those whom loved and lost me...
You are an archetype, a Superman, a Jesus, an angel of Truth...
But where is the truth in your existence, or in mine...
You are all reason to guide me, yet it is the blind leading the blind...
I must face the blind truth; you are an illusion, an outbreathing of
my own existence like my own carbon dioxide...
We call breath a real object, yet we know it is in a temporary state
of atoms in chaos that ever change...
And so do you ever change with my own transitions, my chaotic one...
How you were born of this very chaos to feed a forest of imagination...
The universal nature of your archetypal self is what you consist of...
And I am dying to break free from these shackles of identification of you...
I want to be mindless, to become without barriers and predispositions
and stereotypes...
How the mind is a trap for the hungry mouse who never sees the
crumbs at his feet because he is too busy looking ahead...
Even looking back is that same trap...
He must learn not to look, but just feel...
I feel nothingness, therefore you are nothingness...
We can only become what we ever were to begin with...
And I was nothing but a mist once, and so are you only ever that...
Published 10th Jul 2017
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Surreal, Poet.
He must learn not to look, but just feel...
YES.
I feel a deep yearning for manifestation in this piece. Almost like you want something to surprise even your wanting, like a burst of revelation shining the Truth of an existence that you believed in, or convinced yourself you believed in, but couldn't fully allow yourself to Truly believe in for fear of hurt that it didn't.
I've been to that country. I've seen the sights and smelled the air. I've touched the grass and climbed the trees. I considered moving there recently to live out the rest of my days.
Then I had a flat tire on the way; a Universal fluke. Someone stopped to help: The Truth of what I'd always believed existed.
Don't you give up. We are only drawn to that which exists for us. There's a reason we yearn; deep inside that mist is Truth of what we innately believe.
He must learn not to look, but just feel...
YES.
I feel a deep yearning for manifestation in this piece. Almost like you want something to surprise even your wanting, like a burst of revelation shining the Truth of an existence that you believed in, or convinced yourself you believed in, but couldn't fully allow yourself to Truly believe in for fear of hurt that it didn't.
I've been to that country. I've seen the sights and smelled the air. I've touched the grass and climbed the trees. I considered moving there recently to live out the rest of my days.
Then I had a flat tire on the way; a Universal fluke. Someone stopped to help: The Truth of what I'd always believed existed.
Don't you give up. We are only drawn to that which exists for us. There's a reason we yearn; deep inside that mist is Truth of what we innately believe.
I think of archetypes as our way of being in control of the unknown, they are for me, and if we believe enough, they are real through that and we are always chasing after the ' cheese ' of them being real by focusing on them, but this psychology term of course never gets into the spiritual part of it, the Truth part that we yearn for a connection to, it almost even discourages it, I guess psychology can shrink the brain. I have always struggled with this duality, being a logical thinker and I guess it comes through in my writings, and could even be the reason for them, but I won't give up hope, I believe in the country of imagination and it's power, and even magic..... Thanks for reading and writing that great insight.....
