Wednesday, October 21, 2015

The Broken Heart:

The Broken Heart:

How does one break a heart? The notion seems like a fantasy to a mind that has become nearly entirely jaded and mechanical. But this is how: by saying, oh. I am sorry that you want that. that you have a vision in your mind of things being a certain way. Or per chance a dim hope on the horizon. Or worse an inkling that SOME thing special – some thing of which many have spoken, some thing that felt promised, that felt DESERVED and not arbitrary, either morally or in terms of taste – would happen. Worst of all: It was not an inkling but an overwhelming sense of Fate. It felt PRESSING and IMPERATIVE, primordial and deep. There was no reason to suspect that it would not work, and one was totally open to what ever it was. One had not looked to it to fill an imagined hole in one’s heart, but rather one carved out a NEW hole that one might accommodate the New Hope. And what happens? Too bad. You shall witness all that you desire. But YOU shall not be involved in it but as a spectator. And it shall haunt you. For the more you see it the more deeply will grow the thirst. The more intense the sense of TRAGEDY that that thirst is not assuaged. And one will know that the Human Will is *SINGULARLY* to blame for the loss. And worst of all is the gain to the other. For one would not become the other even if given the choice. That other’s actions ought NEVER to be so rewarded; he deserves no stake in YOUR reward and birth-right. So what is most torturous and hellish about watching some one else live your life is not only that you cannot share in it but that you would not WANT to TAKE it. You would only want your life to be YOUR life, and you would not consent to switching bodies with so depraved a person as who would take YOUR life. Some one who all ways felt threatened by any insight that came to you because HE had not thought of it. Some one who made you feel silly each time you raised your voice. And some one who could stare you down with malicious cowardice, as though he were predator and you were prey, though you were really all ways the stronger Beast and he were but a parasite.
And one would have to watch what one valued consumed by the parasite. For the entitlement had emanated from one singular source: That one KNEW one’s self to be the best possible suitor for that cause. Were it not for that assurance the situation would be unbearable. But it is not in the nature of God to make missed takes, only people. Relativism is a child’s escape; to deny the disparity between right and wrong is to escape all wrongs by forgetting them. Morality guarantees, if the means justify the ends, that one would be the Better Choice, and no greater insult can exist than to be denied that. For so long as one KNOWS then one knows that God at least loves one with courage and commitment. The capitalist pretends that life is determined by the playing out of might, and in this skewed view the individual imagines his rival penetrating his beloved, as he stands by and watches it happen in his mind and forgets that the images do not correspond to the reality; they are mere burns from earlier sightings of a lurid intimacy. Yet the moment that one acknowledges one’s own LOVE to be divinely sanctioned and approved by the Earth one leaves one’s tortured body. One sees what is REALLY at stake: One’s beloved is being taken ADVANTAGE of, and through no fault of one’s own one must watch. Yet in that is retained the dignity of the viewer; in the other narrative the viewer is equally guilty and yet punished by the other’s reward. Not only is this unfair because the other is rewarded; the reward ITS SELF is the punishment. And the mind cannot tolerate that.
This alone entitles me to a chance. For a chance is all ready reward enough; at any moment it can be made reference to as tipping the scales in my favour. And without a chance no claim can be made that one was ever NOT deserving, for no test was administered. So by default one at least DESERVES a chance. And the simpl[e] knowledge that one deserves a chance cures the broken heart. For a heart cannot truly break, only our conception of it. A heart that is truly rooted in love will all ways circulate that blood which carries the life-blood of the Universe.


Dm.A.A.

No comments:

Post a Comment