Chronicles of the Anguished (No. 2)

Sunday,  Jan.3,  1993
2:02 A.M. Annapolis, Maryland

Michael’s Entry:

The tears of a sorrowful man are constant and heavy. Brown eyes look up at grey skies and hope for a better tomorrow. The tears I cry are the tears of a child’s pain held back many years. I have contended with the darkness, and still I face my fears. What is to be said of past anguish and torment left untold? In a dark room a child cried and kept his pain inside. The secrecy of the darkness when it exposes itself is hideous in its raw truth. The ugliness of the underbelly dredge up memories that anger me. Through the eyes of a child, looking at my mother I asked God why he didn’t take us together. Many have told me not to dwell on it, but often I ponder. My sadness increases daily. I am a man in a wilderness of torment seeking an oasis of peace. It is with a heavy heart that I write; I sleep when I can, but I am up most nights. It’s been two years now since Luciana has left. I miss her; but I would never tell her. I am happy she has moved on and found the love she always wanted. I could have done things better, but maybe it’s for the best. Still, I am haunted by the ‘what-ifs.’ Two nights ago I dozed off behind the wheel and almost veered into oncoming traffic; the insomnia is taking its toll. I haven’t spoken to my family in over four years and it’s been somewhat therapeutic. Unsolicited advice from people with their own lives in shambles always irritated me. I do have a dear aunt that’s close to me, but even our relationship is strained. I’ve held things in for years but no more. In fact, I am more resolute than ever to speak my mind despite the potential for hurt feelings; of course, being as respectful as I can be as man who prides himself on etiquette. I no longer have the vigor for life I once had when I was younger. The progression of events that I experienced as a child have have largely contributed to my current state.

It’s hard living life in a constant state of agony. I think what I’ve sought all these years is understanding; someone with genuine love. Granted, sometimes I haven’t been the easiest person to be with, and I’m readily willing to admit my faults. I think the harsh reality is some people are just destined to be alone; years ago I would have never come to this conclusion, but more and more I see true love as something in fairy tales and an illusion. I have been accused of thinking negatively before, so maybe I should refrain, or maybe not. I do have a lady that I’ve been talking to recently, but I hold no hope of it developing into anything more than an acquaintanceship; her name is Stephanie. She is quite attractive, and so far her personality is genteel. The medicine my physician prescribed for my anxiety and depression are no longer effective. I have an appointment next week to address my ongoing insomnia; I’m hopeful it can be resolved in the near future. Frankly I’m dead tired, but I would rather write than look up at the ceiling. These days I find myself crying more than ever. Also, I think I’ve lost my faith in religion. I stopped praying years ago because my prayers weren’t being answered; some may say it’s because I didn’t have enough faith and maybe they’re right. It’s a topic I have to revisit but don’t feel like expounding on right now.

I’m usually responsible financially but recently I have been spending excessively on things that I think will make me happy or at least grant me reprieve from the realities of life. Yesterday I spent a shitload of money on a leather jacket I didn’t need, and I don’t fucking care; it looks good on me and I like it. Fuck it. Is my wild spending some kind of symptom of a mental breakdown? Maybe, or maybe not. I don’t know why in the hell my mind keeps forcing me to think about Luciana. I don’t want to. She’s married now, with a husband and a child on the way, last I heard. It seems everyone else around me is happy, and I am condemned to a life of forlorn and perpetual pain. I have contemplated on this very prospect for some time now and still can’t seem to reach any rational conclusion. I think of the utter darkness of the void and if there is peace to be found in it. Self reflection is a good thing generally, but I tend to dwell on things, so it’s a little different for me. I want to dream beautiful dreams and travel the world with a significant other. I want to be at peace with myself and settle my thoughts long enough to get some fucking sleep. It’s snowing outside and I like seeing the snowfall under the street light near my window; it brings a certain feeling of calmness. I think I will dust off my record player and put on, Violin Sonata in G minor (Tartini) “Devil’s Trill Sonata,” which is a favorite of mine from the Baroque period. Now will also be a good time for some herbal tea; I might as well since I’m up anyway. Goodnight, or good morning rather.

Illianna’s Lament

Illianna’s lament:

I have given of myself, yet they betray me.
I have loved them unconditionally, yet they would slay me.
I have comforted them in winter’s bitter cold,
And from me they have taken and stole.
I have nurtured them and held them closely,
Yet they harbor ill will toward me.
I have laid them against my chest
And comforted them in sweet caress, 
Yet their eyes are filled with bitterness.
I have talked to them soft spoken,
but still they desire for my heart to be broken.
Love, why do you beguile me?
I have given them, everyone last one, pieces of me,
And they have left me empty.
In the vessel that is me, it is only tears I carry.
Love, come by and knock on my door;
Give to me what I have been searching for,
For alone in the longest winter I tarry.
I cry out to the heavens;
My ululating echoes penetrate the galaxy.

The Love of an Angel

We have cried together.
We have communed on midnight
Until the dawning of the morning light.
We’ve made love in the warmth of the summer
Under the glow of the moonlight.
You are my strength; you are my life.
Our light will never be extinguished;
Among women you are certainly distinguished.
Our love has flourished like a flower
In the warmth of the spring,
After the bitter cold of the winter.
In your house of love
You have allowed me to enter;
Forever they will write about us
In beautifully layered chapters.
Our story whispered under lamp light
And passed down for generations.
Let us come together in harmony
For without you there is no me.
For long I had prayed for love to find me
And then on that day an angel came to me
And told me softly,

For long I have watched you;
And now that I am here
Open up to me and let me love you.
You can show me your vulnerability
And trust me.
My intentions are pure
And in me there is no fear;
Let me kiss you now 
And wipe away your tears.

I said,

My love I trust you.
And with everything that 
Is in my heart
I now give to you.
For so long I had longed for you;
My angel you are the woman
Of my heart’s desire.
You are my song;
You are my fire.
Our love will survive;
We will thrive through the hottest summer
And the bitter chill of the coldest winter.
Without looking back,
In your house of warmth I now enter.

From this day forth
We are now bound together.
Neither life, nor death,
Nor the whisper 
Of an envious breath,
Can Break us apart
Or tear us asunder.

For you are mine,
And I am yours

Lovely Gemini

She came as an angel in white
with broad wings in light
But she would leave me heartbroken
By the end of that night
Beautiful beyond measure
With a gleam in her eyes
I looked at her with want
Through Sagittarius eyes  
As I adorned her with flowers
We sat and talked for hours
She told me of wonders
And stories that caused me to cry
I awakened with ecstasy
But then with a sigh 
I realized she had left me
My lovely Gemini 

On that Day

Life’s poignancy is steeped in stark reality.
To keep our sanity we shield our eyes from the underbelly.
When we cry alone, on pillows, tears are dried;
We sleep, we awake, and then again we cry.
Season after season in listless state we lie.
Born of our mother’s womb, but alone we die.
In a quest to find happiness it is hard we try;
A stranger’s face feigns happiness, but inside she dies.
On the day of that dawn, oh that beautiful dawn,
We no longer will sigh; we no longer will cry.
Until it arrives, yes until it arrives,
We await or salvation with tears in our eyes.

Two Passionate Seasons

For two seasons we shared in the endless pleasure of euphoria.
We were not in love, but we were lovers,
For we both belonged to another;
And on that night we said our final goodbyes
We tasted of pure ecstasy for one last time.
Though I feigned apathy, for long I burned in the fires of jealousy.
Did I fool myself and take cover in fallacies of not loving her?

I took counsel with my heart and it told me,
If it was meant to be it would be;
But still, reasoning and rationality couldn’t console me.
The ghosts of her sounds of ecstasy haunt me.
I am perturbed as I try to purge myself of her memory.

The Pondering of Cognition

Thoughts flood in and intrude.
I must remain calm in the storm.
Torment rains down with stark reality;
I have dreamed of having peaceful dreams
But have only seen the underbelly.
Its rawness is hideous and scary.
Indeed in its presentation it is ugly.
My portion has been suffering
And I drink of that cup daily, unwillingly.
With a look of sincerity a solemn faced priest
Pulled me aside and told me:
Say 1 Our Father, 3 Hail Mary’s and 1 Glory Be.
I have sought heaven but for me are the gates open?
For long we have been suffering and hoping,
And hoping yet again.
Has the darkness become my bedfellow
And perpetual anguish my friend?
Lovers see my pain and tell me they love me,
But by the dawning of the morning light
They are gone ironically.
Understanding has only crossed my path in passing.
The spirit yearns for the substance of love
And something substantial and lasting.
About my life, I put pen to paper,
But where do I begin?
They accuse me of apostasy
And desire to tar and feather me;
Thoughts of their hypocrisy increase my anxiety.
In my lament, I remember my mother’s torment;
The nights of crying uncontrollably.
Was it somehow acquired or was it passed down to me?
In the scope of things does it matter at all?
Maybe the answers could be found in my genome
But it is in my own thoughts that I roam. 
What is there to say of bitter winters
And the depressed drinking chamomile tea by the warmth of fires? 
What is there to say of past loves of yesteryear who are no longer here?
The nothingness and silence of the darkness offers no solace.

Beautiful Surrender

I was wounded and you patiently tended to me.
I was cold and you brought me inside of your warmth.
You are a woman among women, to who a blue diamond is akin.
Just to see your hair fall on your contour is amazing,
And the radiant glow and shimmering of your skin.
You are the most beautiful flower in heaven’s garden;
Even in their vastness, unknown galaxies
whisper to one another jealousies as they behold your beauty.

But what can I give?

What can I give to an angel who spread her white wings and embraced me?
Who with tears in her eyes reached down and rescued me?
We cried together that night, 
And while she held me I started to write our story;
The title: That Night I Witnessed an Angel In All Her Glory
The debt that I owe is worth so much more than diamonds and jewelry. 

My love, I have given you my heart but what more can I render?
I kissed her and whispered, To your love my angel, forever I surrender.