"Frozen Innocence"

{by Darknessgazer, Deviant}

Ever just want to go back to simpler times? Times . . . without such bearing? I want to go back to 50 lbs. ago, when I thought I was fat. Or 10 lbs. before that before I was diagnosed. That would be even better. Fall of 10th grade. A Christmas Carol. Barely memorable. I know I played the piano in it instead of a role. I never really played a role for her. For anyone but myself.

I don't know what role I'm supposed to play now. I don't have a stage, I don't have an obvious timeframe or goal anymore. I've made it past those, more or less intact.

There's no solace in tonight. I could weep more, I could sedate, I could sleep. Many "I could"'s and few "I will"'s.

Impermanence.

So this entry is a long time coming . . . provoked by both a lovely wench and David Carradine in some awesome "Kung Fu."

I've never really mourned and accepted the impermanence that goes along with friendships. A younger, less jaded Danielle would say her love is unconditional and e'erlasting, and blindly allowed herself to think that the receiving party felt the same. Life is just not so.

Let's revisit our "Four Noble Truths" before we continue {courtesy of www.thebigview.com}:

1. Life means suffering. To live means to suffer, because the human nature is not perfect and neither is the world we live in. During our lifetime, we inevitably have to endure physical suffering such as pain, sickness, injury, tiredness, old age, and eventually death; and we have to endure psychological suffering like sadness, fear, frustration, disappointment, and depression . . . Life in its totality is imperfect and incomplete, because our world is subject to impermanence. This means we are never able to keep permanently what we strive for, and just as happy moments pass by, we ourselves and our loved ones will pass away one day, too.


2. The origin of suffering is attachment. The origin of suffering is attachment to transient things and the ignorance thereof. Transient things do not only include the physical objects around us, but also ideas . . . Ignorance is a lack of understanding of how our mind is attached to impermanent things. The reasons for suffering are desire, passion, ardour, pursuit of wealth and prestige, striving for fame and popularity, or in short, craving and clinging. Because the objects of our attachment are transient, their loss is inevitable, thus suffering will necessarily follow. Objects of attachment also include the idea of a "self" which is a delusion, because there is no abiding self. What we call "self" is just an imagined entity, and we are merely part of the ceaseless becoming of the universe.


3. The cessation of suffering is attainable. The cessation of suffering can be attained through nirodha. Nirodha means the unmaking of sensual craving and conceptual attachment. The third noble truth expresses the idea that suffering can be ended by attaining dispassion. Nirodha extinguishes all forms of clinging and attachment. This means that suffering can be overcome through human activity, simply by removing the cause of suffering. Attaining and perfecting dispassion is a process of many levels that ultimately results in the state of Nirvana.


4. The path to the cessation of suffering. There is a path to the end of suffering - a gradual self-improvement . . . the Eightfold Path. Craving, ignorance, delusions, and its effects will disappear gradually, as progress is made on the path.

All theses concepts reinforced, I have 3 B's. A Liz, a Bethany, and and Brasch. Let's do Auntie Bethany and Uncle Brasch first, since they go rather hand in hand.

Brasch was my HS senior choir director, and a seriously awesome soul. One of her good friends, Bethany, also became a good friend of mine. Brasch was never good at keeping in touch, so I don't really feel much pain for her . . . she was never a constant. It was however when I began hearing more from her and less from Bethany that I pondered. I have no idea why Bethany stopped talking to me. I live about an hour from her, and Brasch has since moved away, but to hear nothing? I just started getting "forward" type emails rather than anything of substance. This was probably in 2005. The last I really saw Bethany was in 2004 during my break from college for treatment. She was so integral to my recovery at that time. I love both of them so much. I still do. I've since stopped trying to call Bethany; she can screen and for whatever reason, it seems she's cut all ties. I don't know why . . . and I suppose I never will. It just hurts so much to love and respect someone to have them not even give you a word, one way or another. If I had any sort of resolution or reason, I doubt my emptiness would be nearly as consuming. Once upon I time I wanted Brasch to create my wedding dress; she's a talented seamstress as well, and to my knowledge that's now her full-time career path. I know her website . . . and wonder if it is still maintained. When it comes to be that time of my life, I suppose I shall cry again for what is passed.

There's no stopping the tears now either. Let them fall.

{"Alone" by Ronnie_77 at DeviantArt.}

I'm not sure which is harder to accept: silence or a discarded SASE. Which brings me to Liz, abridged. These are all terribly abridged. Why belabor in retelling the past, I guess. If I go over every wonderful detail it only makes this release more difficult. I met Liz my freshman year of college, and we soon became inseparable. We set out to room together our sophomore year, and did, until I took my medical leave. I visited a few times, even reunited with Ed during one visit . . . but when I returned the next year, there wasn't really any room for me in her life anymore. She had already made a new nitch for herself. It makes me sad to think I brought her out of her shell only to have her leave me behind. Mind, I am in no way innocent; I can be extremely introverted and unmotivated to maintain friendships. I certainly take my share of the fault. But I just . . . felt that although she was around and still friendly, there was nothing there. No hanging. No shenanigans. And then she graduated and I was still a year behind.

I saw her a year later at my own graduation - we talked and it was . . . ::sigh:: I thought it was ressurectable. She lives in a stressful, poverty-stricken home environment, so modern contact wasn't really a good option. I wrote her a letter and it felt so good to joke and write and expect a fun note back . . . but it never came. Never. Not even with the aforementioned SASE enclosed. And that was a year ago recently. I've heard nothing since. I saw her surface on AIM last week, which was shocking, but what is there, really? I didn't message. What would there be to say? After weeks of expecting a letter back, I realized . . . she just wasn't my sister anymore. I always wanted one, and was so fortunate to find one outside the ties of brethren.

I will likely never call someone sister again.

@>-->------<--<@

I'm going to close this for now . . . it's going to have to be entry 1 of 2. This flows into the broader topic of burnt bridges and my perceptions of past experiences. It's too much for one sitting.

Why Don't They Pay Taxes Again?

{"Two Worlds" by artsaavy. http://www.deviantart.com/}

So . . . Crystal and I were just shopping at Walmart, and as we were leaving we saw 3 Amish women and 2 Amish men . . . all of whom were toting merchandise, including Mountain Dew and Oreos. They then piled into a minivan.

I am sorely confused.