F.i.in.e Moods

- perspective :  consequences of severe prolonged isolation... 

What appears in these writings

Is all of the unspoken thoughts

My quietness won't let me get out.

So, contrary to what may seem to be,

This apparent self-absorption doesn't

Describe my usual nature, way of being.

Whether about myself or other topics,

Talking is something I rarely do, plus

The opportunities are more than scarce.

And now, the problem is that I spend way

Too much time alone with my head,

Day in, day out, on my own in my room

With little to no exterior stimuli to

Spark my attentions elsewhere, so

The thoughts just turn on themselves.

The days meld into the nights, on a loop,

And everything is simply stalled as well,

The need to find outside input's screaming.

Resolving these isolation issues of mine

Is something that's been worked on for years,

Traumas have improved, but not enough yet.

So, this is the only space I have,

And right now, the only people

Around are you who come to read.

You help me get a sense that I exist.

Somewhere.

Somehow.

- not part of any political anything personally, but as an observer, the 'conservative' parties' mentalities have always been difficult for me... however, what's been going on in the US for the last few years, all of it is stepping into the Twilight Zone bizarre and is alarmingly concerning...

It's disturbing

How little sense

Is parading

As being the truth.

It's distressing

The level of animosity

That comes out when

Lies turn to beliefs.

It's depressing

Being forced to make

Sense of the senseless,

And it being laid in law.

It's revolting

How a fractional minority

Can affect such a wide

Majority for the worse.

There's a certain measure

Of frustration that's building

And it feels so immature

In some ways, looks for sure

It's just a life spent battling

The mental anguishes of abuse

And as this suffocating fog was

Clearing finally, it's the body's turn

The one struggle glided right 

Into another formidable barrier

And the only direction it can head

Is complete dependence, a live death

It feels like life is a sincere cheat

Always interfering with efforts of hope

And so, yes, my frustration is building

In a manner it's never been felt before

- a bit of self-pity in a silly ditty, I suppose... sorry about that.. my body is in constant pain due to my connective tissues seemingly being on a degenerative course last couple years... can't say that I'm doing well with my new limited mobility... and treatment, well, the meds didn't help, so recently stopped them... no other alternatives were offered by the doctor, so no pain relief as of yet... as for physio, it surprisingly fixed the subscapularis tendinopathy in my right shoulder... I can move my arm again without the terrible pain it'd been for months... but the ligament sprain in my left knee, the synovitis in my left hip, and all the other constant inflammatory flare-ups in the rest of my joints are not showing much improvement... it's really getting me down to have so much trouble taking a simple walk...

Oh, pain, pain

Do like the rain

Come another day

Please just go away

Oh, pain, pain

You're such a drain

Can I not sway

You to go astray

Oh, pain, pain

You're my restraint

Extinguishing the day

Mood's not too far away

it's the spaces in between

that make him the most serene

no abrasions

no invasions

a misunderstood simplicity

others don't realize they envy

- que d'anxiétés perpétuelles... 

Sorry, I can't do this anymore.

It does my head in too seriously.

When people start conversations,

And for some reason, drop them.

Usually when I decide to partake in

Is when they seem to feel the need to.

They become absolutely, completely silent.

Let that silence linger without explanation.

But they're the ones who sought me out.

Then leave me dangling in all uncertainties.

It feels like what I say must be so

Idiotic or uninspiring, not worth time,

For them to feel so comfortable

About being so rude my way.

Eh, might be a cultural impression, but social

Etiquette surely doesn't differ that vastly...

And when something happens frequently,

Have to figure something's obviously wrong.

So, I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore.

Being online does my head in too much.

Keep wondering what it'd be like if this apparent

'Online etiquette' was applied to 'real life' moments.

Conversations would look something like :

I reply to you, you stand there in dead silence,

Either looking at me or simply walking away.

It's the very same awkwardness in either spaces.

Not figuring out why this effect isn't considered online

And everyone forgets they don't like to be treated this way.

But, eh, I guess my circumstances make online

Communications more than most take them for.

Again looks like the problem is mine, so I'll retreat.

I need to redefine what they are, but it's not coming.

So, I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore.

Being online does my head in too seriously.

So, what does it mean

You always watching

But never saying anything?

It's truly unsettling.

Or how about

Me always wondering

But never saying anything?

Insecurity's a powerful thing.

- obviously not suggesting all men are like this or are my thoughts meant in an offensive light ('defective gene' part), but which women of power ever did/do such things? probably not as eloquently put as it could be, but it's difficult to be any sort of eloquent when upset... 

It strikes me as a defective gene some

from the male counterpart of our species

appear to be battling with.  Through the

ages, it's been about conquering lands,

and acquiring power in as vast an area

as possible, to utter mad obsession.  That

old drive seems to be well and thriving

once again, and so difficult to contain.

This need to have all power over others.

This need to be in control of everything.

This need to feel like THE big man.

It's been going on and on through time, and

although the story may settle down for a while,

such occurrences'll always pop back up.  This

ugly head will never want to relent its place as

It seems these men will always naturally exist.

History maps it out well enough.

Today lives it again.

A heartbroken world cries and fears

as yet another 'man of power' snatches

away peace and hopes from all.

Eh cibole ! C'est l'cas de

l'dire, on gèlent comme

des p'tits cretons à matin !

J't'en train d'virer

en popsicle sur place !

Comme Gilles Vigneault

chantait dans sa chanson :

« Mon pays c'est l'hiver ».

Oui, monsieur !  C'est plein

dans l'mille c'qu'i' disait-là.

Souvent à partir d'octobre

jusqu'à la fin d'avril qu'on

peut voir la neige à l'entour.

Mais l'pire sont les jours

venteux de -25 Celsius,

Pas trop une rareté, ça.

Alors, c'est l'cas de l'dire,

on gèlent comme des p'tits

cretons à matin !

Eh cibole !

Comparing you and my walls,

I'd say it's similar in
That neither say anything...
But you, you expect me
To catch what you mean.