Singed So Sweetly: from incense to ashes

I feel the burden of a soul that cares. This is not self-upliftment. No, I could almost say the contrary. How do you help someone that you do not truly KNOW? Or, sometimes, no all the time much more painfully, how do you make people who don't know you understand that you know them? I have a good life, but the truth is that this good life was brought into being by profound pain... some of which is still lingering. I understand soul sickness and self development. I understand hating yourself and to your deepest chagrin but undeniable self-truth hating the person that "made" you hate yourself. I understand the hatred for the unanswerable paradox that is then created... an almost tangible presence that threatens to linger for the rest of your life... I understand then searching for solutions which are beyond life. Life is beautiful. When I say that I mean it in the same way that I might say, "Life is funny." Both are ALWAYS true, it's just that often times the humour is dark and ironic, filled with wicked intentions. Life IS beautiful... but you have to fight through (or learn to appreciate) its dark and haunting side... the side that no man or woman has ever "understood"... in order to emerge on the other side, bright and relieving in its understandable appeal. The intellectual all say that they want deeper understanding... that they want to delve further. The fact is that I said this about myself once, and now I only wish for deeper knowledge for the purpose of pulling me out of the terrifying and seemingly endless black quicksand of "enlightenment." Perfect understanding is impossible. I accept this. Hell, I'm okay with this. Please, delve deep enough into the void just to be content. True happiness and joy is found elsewhere. To be honest, true happiness and joy is one of the more easily found things set before us. Almost nobody finds it because post-modern humanism has made us blind.

I guess I don't know why I am writing this. Maybe it's just so I can express and vent my pain. But it's not my pain I'm feeling... it's someone else's. So many times it's someone else's... How do I help? What do I say? How do I express that unlike the multitudes of people using the same words and expressing the same concerns I am DIFFERENT and I really can help!?

I hate helplessness... therefore I refuse to feel helpless. I will find a way. Until then, please find me. I will be the one confidently lost, but holding a light with all the answers. "The man with the loving, mad-scattered eyes."

Light exists everywhere, only some creatures are able to absorb more of it from the darkness.

Happiness is light.