~~Hallucination~~

My age is somewhere between nineteen and dead. I have lost all my friends. I can no longer see any merit in having friends just for the sake of it, just to keep up appearances. I have nothing in common with anyone. Soon there will be only me and Oscar. The body bags are under my bed. I am the only person with whom I do not feel disjunctive and dissonant. Dozens of times, while planting or working or trying to sleep, I have thought of Great Lines, and my thoughts have moved on, and the great lines never got noted, and were forthwith forgotten. I took the champagne out of the refrigerator. I wept dry tears of ironic self-pity as I cooked an altogether humbler meal than I intended, with no alcohol - which should, of course, only be taken to celebrate with or to uplift, never to accompany sadness or drown miserable disappointment. Everyone I have ever met has been disappointing - as I was a disappointment to my friends, my brother and my father and mother who raised me. I really cannot cope with 'normal' people. In my (irreversible?) state of incipient dementia, I see no point in and get no pleasure from brief socializing; it is about as meaningful as a TV chat show. The one person I would like to be with is unavailable, and shrouded in cannabis smoke. As a child I got relief from tension and from thinking by turning on to my belly in bed, placing my hands upon the pillow, and banging my head against them while singing a monotonous tune repeatedly - an Ur-tune that is the basis of many melodies and variations in Sufi (and, for that matter, popular) music, especially the hymn-like tunes and chorales beloved of Gayatri mantra.. Some of my findings in last couple weeks: (1). Consciousness is just a wound. (2). Humans talk of pure and true because their souls are dirt and lies. (3). Belief is jumped-up desire. (4). Only the happy have sanity, and some have said that the only happy humans are the dead. The poor dead moon, hopelessly in thrall to dying Earth. (5). Failed suicide is true failure indeed. Another day awakening to terrible dismay in glorious weather. (6). In death is safety. When we're all dead, we'll all be safe. It is another glorious day. (7). The most enduring Terrorism is 'Normality'. (8). Human knowledge is no more than the maps of human ignorance. (9).When you think people are laughing, often they are weeping. When you think people are weeping, the worst of them are laughing. (10). When all else fails – philosophize! (11). 'Satan' is the sum of all the humans who have ever lived. And money is the devil's seed. (12). Money is, as I said, a bit like pornography. Some love it, others don't, but the world is ruled by it one way or another. The pornography of greed. (13). The beauty of the amazing weather only makes it worse. (14). Love is more terrible even than sex. It is hate which 'makes the world go round'. (15). The greatest lie we're told and tell ourselves is that life is good - when it is only animated junk. (16). Weeping is better than talking. Weeping is better than words.(17). There is nothing like hurt and anger to clear the geriatric fog in the head. (18). Kill is a perfectly acceptable word, but fuck is not. This says almost all you need to know about our values. (19). What is not suffering is denial of suffering. (20). Grief is also celebration. Even if I had a soul why would I think it’s worth saving? Silence, no mirrors. When people say that they are devastated, do they mean that, like me, they wake up weeping in the small hours of the morning? I certainly now realize the appropriateness of the colloquial term gutted. Every day is worse. Joy is shallow, Sadness is profound / And love a tiny hollow / In the trampled ground./ O that the days and the nights would cease./ Life is stupidity starving and striving; death is the infinite wisdom of peace... It is time to stop. I guess I must drown myself to slumber for a while.