Sunday, December 21, 2014

la Disadvatage de la "Seawall"

A Soul Portrait of the Artist

I walk watching where I walk because I do not want to look up. I see the textures of the previous posts because I focus on things that keep my gaze from people. My favourite times on the wall are when there is no one there. Why? Because so many people trigger the titanic sea of hate and anger in me.

I ask myself: How can I get rid of the anger? Beth would tell me to see a therapist but I have little faith that a stranger can tell me more than I can discover on my own. Besides, I use my fabulous Gestalt trick to find answers and it tells me I am angry because my mother got sick and left us and that led to the collapse of our family. I am angry still, because I was left alone.

The Gestalt trick reveals self-pity over two mothers leaving me before age twelve. It also reveals a fear that I am unlovable because I am the constant in my list of failed relationships that includes one father and two mothers.

The dominatrix in my brain says: Get over it. My inner bitch says: Believing you drive everyone away is highly egocentric. My inner King of Reason says: You have lived 24,881days already and you will similarly live through the rest of your days.

Today I said to myself: Look down and think happy thoughts and it worked until this guy on a bike who is not supposed to be on the seawall clipped my shoulder. I did not hear him coming because I was listening to my iPhone which is supposed to be a safe thing to do on the seawall and his touch unleashed the hounds of hate—Baskervilles full.

It’s become worse of late; people are noticing. I am relieved I was the first to become aware of it and there must be awareness before there can be change. How to affect change is the challenge.

I trust my instincts. I always have. My friends will wince but I might try going to a Latin mass for a while. Although I loathe religion, I love the idea of God and the spoken words of masses in Latin are completely inoffensive.

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