I fear, and hope. I burn, and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise.
And naught I have, and all the World I seize on...
Contradictions, Opposites of Extreme ~ These would go through me during morning prayer with psymun and tehpsy. Set a cooling heart on fire, set a heavy mind in flight, sometimes gave that extra lift. Not this week ~ ever since handing in that work last Friday, it has felt like something was meant to feel wrong. It's where extremes ~ grow out of control. Was told last week that I lack self-control, and that was too right for comfort - I'm not in control of my mouth or anything that comes out of it.
Last Thusday, at the Aled concert, we had the opportunity to 'Ask Aled' a question. For some daft reason, I wrote about 9 lines on this little card. It's meant to be entertaining, not a Book of Revelations. Needless to say, of all the audience questions, he got through them all, and mine didn't feature. If any, it was the one he threw on the floor because it will have looked too long and boring. Moving on, Monday late afternoon, there was a tutorial group on Wordsworth where I talked more than normal: talked to awkward silences, stares, sniggers. These may or may not have happened: it could be in my head, but it's left me not wanting to say another word in tutorials for the rest of the year. I remember saying to myself going down the stairs from the second floor afterwards oblivious to others there that I really wanted to staple my mouth shut. I got home and discovered my good housemate, Justin, had been mugged. How dreadful is that? I didn't have a clue what I could say: feeling particularly useless, I was sadly happy to be asleep to save any difficulties.
On Tuesday, I saw the Head of Department in the English Office. I love the English staff; all of them. She asked me how everything was going. To say 'I'm enjoying it much more than last year' was stupid (Error no. 1), considering she taught me for half of it - so had to think of a quick recovery to justify it. She then asked me if it was true that I was housesharing with psymun (who she teaches this year), and I was happy to confirm that as true. She says how he's commendably hard-working, and instead of agreeing, I go and say something really stupid about giving him the mumps too (Error no. 2) - it's reputed I'm the one who give her mumps too. Why on Earth did I mention that? Thankfully she left before I could do any more damage. Tuesday night, I go and write some really stupid stuff, and regretted it so much. I'm sleeping lots at the moment: it's cold, and yet it's safe - if I'm asleep, I'm not speaking and not doing any damage.
I wasn't going to escape last night too easily. I had a rather revolting dream which brought the thought of 'excesses' really rising over the top. Perhaps that gives it away. Plus, I'm scared. Friends; Outside World. I'm living in the 'Romantic Period' right now: shut away, revolving around my own little reclusive, hermit world. Perhaps I'm scared because of all the uprising uncertainty ~ anguish, separation, dischordance: if I hurt, I daren't open my mouth to say it, it's not worthy (What do you do here, Mr Narcissicm!?). If I upset housemates any more with this dirty mind of mine or unpleasantness, I'll find myself a welcome exit at the end of the year and not a difficult one. Thankfully, I've kept quiet in prayer over these last few days: if I were to say something wrong there, I'd lose a lot of respect very quickly. So much drawing me to ponder over the remarkable music video of Enya's 'Exile', which begins with Steve Martin's line from L.A. Story ~
"Why is it that we don't always recognize the moment when love begins, but we always know when it ends?"
I'm glad to escape awhile. Time to wake up; resume the responsibility of life again.
Love, Peace & Harmony, in Controlled Excess. x x x x x