Comfort

In some uncertain light, comfort sighs. The soul's kawanami.

It's more than strange to have known absolute happiness amidst such intense grief. I had not thought it possible. Lying there as though I could forever in perfect, inexplicable contentment, when for the most part I long to escape the torture that is life altogether - these sentiments blossomed, vernal sacraments promising a future and a hope. 

Suddenly I am lost for words. I generally try not to censor the flow despite every anxiety that the result is a stream of consciousness which is emotionally elaborate in excess - yet now I find that every expression is a struggle. I don't know how to explain what I cannot, what I will never be able to be. It has been the strangest week of my entire life - which is saying an awful lot given that I've been in various psychiatric institutions - and I just don't know where to start. 

I'm still in a state of partial disorientation after the week's indulgences in copious quantities of substances I shouldn't be using but it's a reflective condition; one during which I have the ability to recognise, my thoughts order and release them in a hopefully reasonably comprehensible form as oppose to having some absorbent glass wall deaden every vessel of meaning in my mind and heart and then shoot from its exterior an action which is so entirely undetermined it seems as though it was born from thin air. Despite the sad reality that the almost frighteningly dizzying highs are subsiding, and my mood mellowing in accordance, I am still able to appreciate the good times that have been. I cannot and will not let myself crash completely. 

The week was far from devoid of turbulence, commencing with a wild night in Brighton spent, after a great gig with friends, chasing someone such an emotional and physical wreck that she was a danger to not only herself but others around her including me and those I was with. I don't think it was situations of trauma and moments of intense anxiety including various panic attacks that made it such an extraordinary week however; quite the opposite: for once in my whole life I found myself wanting to hold myself in a moment of time forever and ever as oppose to wishing it away completely. Newer still it wasn't only for the wrong reasons. It wasn't purely for starvation or the influence of intoxication, though undeniably both played a substantial part. I knew peace.

Insecurities will always invade any suggestion of a relationship which exists in my world. Somehow here however, some reciprocal connection, an inexplicable bond which I doubt can be defined so simply as lust or even love or good company rendered a sense of ease between us - we were, quite unconditionally, meant to be together at this time. Fate. Magic.

Now after the bliss of discovering, at least for one transient moment, true happiness I am slightly at a loss. I don't know where to find myself without another, when it seems that it is in that other that I have found home. I long to feel the comfort of being embraced again and adoring such a gesture as oppose to feeling terrified in its grasp. The sense of security once is beginning to become evanescent, drifting ever more distant on the horizon and thus persuading me further toward a means of gratifying self-destruction. Though I know this road well and have been on it for some time now it seems the downward trajectory is accelerating with alarming abruptness which contradicts the easy tranquility of my more pleasant mood and the preceding events. Physical deterioration is beginning to set in more rapidly than before, almost as some ironic remark from the universe about the imbalance of life. Maybe this is all I will ever know: my situation being good at one end of the spectrum means everything on the other must suffer as a result. Either way, I would sacrifice anything for the brief bliss I have known over past times - something I never imagined I would ever express.

My body may well be worn but my heart has found a rhythm which I hope can find the will to sustain. It's difficult to keep a hold on an abstract feeling, especially one so rarely felt. I can only try to remember.