Images from a fractured mind Part 2 5/8

I went to church today, Sunday mass in Vietnamese.  It has been a very long time since I walked into a church, even longer since I actually attended a mass.  It’s not that I don’t believe, it’s just that I seem lost, having faith in nothing anymore.  I was born and raised Catholic; grade school, high school, even college. Several years ago I left the hypocrisy to search for the truth and found that the truth, many times was much harder to accept.  It is at that moment that I found that in my searching for answers to questions that I didn’t even know, is where I found (for the first time) my faith. I left the mass, not with the feeling that the ‘holy spirit’ has refilled my soul, rather, I felt sad and abandoned.  I saw two beggars at either side of the church gate as I left the grand Notre’ Dam Cathedral in Saigon.  I looked at them both and handed the one to the left 20,000 Dong and nothing to the man on the right.  I said nothing, didn’t look down and did not even turn around as the man’s weak frail hand, on the right, tugged at my pants leg saying something in Vietnamese. As I walked away, I thought to myself, and to whatever Deity was listening at that moment to my thoughts, What about him?  I could still feel him tugging at my pants leg a block later.  Will his brother share with him or will he keep it for himself. Did I just choose who would be saved and who would not or am I just testing man's station in life? I give to one to see if he gives or keeps my generosity. I wonder if the one who is left with nothing will accept his fate or will he fight to take from the other.  These thoughts run through my mind as I shake off the feeling of the beggars’ hand from my pants leg, now three blocks away,  as I am now filled with some sort of strange sense of accomplishment and satisfaction in creating conflict and chaos.  As I get back to my hotel, I take a seat in the Eames chare kick up my feet and look out the 16^th floor window on the church that I had just left, as I ponder the results of the seeds I just planted.

Who am I? Why doesn’t this bother me? 20 minutes ago I was sitting on a wooden bench at the corner of the Alter looking at the iconic statue of Mary ‘The Mother of God’ with a tear building up in my eye saying to myself “I miss my mother” and now I sit here in the 1500 dollar leather Eames chair in my executive suite safe from the dirt and noise and the unwashed without a care.  As I sink into the security of the leather chair watching the daylight fade to red, then purple and eventually black, I think to myself, well god, you created me, don’t ask me to apologize.  I am everything you made me to be, in your likeness and all that catechism crap.  Don’t blame me or judge me because I can manipulate the system. It takes balance to exist in this life, which means all good must be balanced with evil. One cannot appreciate ‘light’ if there is never ‘dark’.  It seems that within my own existence, my own internal psyche, I have created balance. So my dear friend, God, Allah, Yahweh, Brahma, Buddha, Ilbis, whatever you choose, you created me, you made the dark to balance the light, now accept it, I certainly have.  I think what bothers you, is that I know.  So where do we go from here? I use you and you use me, it’s a sick symbiotic relationship that cannot exist any other way.

images from a fractured mind Part 2 1/3

Is this Life? Is this what it’s all about; Sitting under a soot covered umbrella alone, yet surrounded by people, in the rain, on a concrete bench, waiting for the rain to come, only to be disappointed once again?  So I pick up my bag and start walking to my next meeting, I get about half way down the street and a huge crash of thunder opens up the sky and nothing short of the biblical Noah’s flood unleashes upon the city, as if God was mocking me as I try to gain shelter under a small vine covered trellis along the sidewalk. I am consumed by the surreal nature of what is unfolding in front of my eyes.  Noone is slowing down, bicycles, motorcycles riders alike reach for their ponchos and slip them over their heads without the slightest care or concern in the world.  The honking continues and the noise from the street is challenging the thunder claps from the belly laughing of God at his latest practical joke. Here I am in this foreign land isolated not so much by language, but by the cage that I have contained myself within, protecting me from the visitors that patron the zoo that is my life, or is it them that I am protecting from me?

This couldn’t happen while he was under the dry sanctuary of the multi- colored umbrella, that wouldn’t have been anywhere near as funny”, He says to Siddhartha, as they roll on the floor of  Ashoka blossoms holding their belly’s laughing. 

I look up into the black clouds as I here God and his pals getting a good laugh, “enough” I  say quite audibly, “you think this is funny? Get a load of this!” and headed out down the street as if it was a sunny summer day.  I walked straight across Nguyen Dinh Chieu with thousands of motorcycles honking their horns at me swerving to avoid running into me on the busy wet street.  I get the other side and make a b-line for Truong Dinh, and smile at the locals, who stared at me as if I was completely out of my mind; I said to them, “you see He needs me, so I’m not worried” and went along my merry way. 

“Well, I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming, that just took all the fun out of it”, He said to Vishnu, “I think he is finally ready”, said Iblis.  “I’m not sure just yet”, He said, “let’s just wait and see a little more.”

images from a fractured mind Part 2

Sitting in Cong Vien Tao Ban, a park in the middle of Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon to everyone except tourists) on my way to the next meeting in a 5 day marathon of meetings and appointments.  The never ending sound of horns, motorcycles and cars that seems to fill every second of everyday pounds in my head giving a whole new definition to migraine. Thunder crashes overhead as the sky turns gray almost instantly. Sitting and drinking my tea waiting for the rain to come to wash away the filth, pollution and general discontent with my life. Several brightly colored umbrellas, or at least once brightly colored, now laden with a layer of black soot that fills every cubic inch of the air, offer shelter from the sun, and now in this case the rain. Dozens of people sitting, talking, people with lives much like mine. Most of these people probably have family, bills, jobs, stress and chaos in their lives’, yet seem to cope with it. Another thunder crash, still no rain, still no break in the constant barrage of noise coming from the street. I find myself slowly being lulled to sleep by what sounds like Tuvan Throat Singing, as I realize the harmonies of the motorcycles over the cars and the horns, I seem to have finally after five days have gone beyond the noise and chaos and achieved harmony, or maybe it’s the 90 degree heat and 90% humidity and the fact that I have been in 3 different countries in the last 8 days.  I begin to doze off for a brief moment hoping for the rain to come contemplating is it all worth it? What brought me here anyway? Is there something more in life than working to make money to pay bills to run new bills up to work more to….you get the picture.  I pull out a popped rice cake from my bag, and then a second. A hint of ginger lingers within the sweetened puffed rice. It hits the spot enough to quell my hunger for now, but I seem to still be wanting, or more like needing more.  Not food or drink, but something to fill the insatiable emptiness inside.  Finally!  The rain begins to fall, ever so lightly, the people sitting out in the open under the trees don’t even notice, maybe just don’t care.  One drop then two then another hit the stone plaza with a random sense of order.  One umbrella stands alone with no one taking shelter under it.  It’s nice to sit in the rain, then suddenly it stops, as quickly as it began, it was gone, never living up to its potential, never realizing what it could have been. For now, only a few tears from the angles to suggest that all that we know is that we know nothing and all that we see is merely illusion.

Broken Pormises

another cold night so pour me a drink and make it a strong one, I've given up the fight and lost all control
you find that the people you trust you can only trust just a little, and the people you love you don't even know.

So I stop to think about the broken promises, the dreams I've lost and the lies I've told, with my eyes wide open I let it all slip away.  I remember the good times, the bad times and the times in the middle, I wish I could have remembered to ask you to say.

This is where I hide a lifetime of memories.  Convincing myself that I'm better off alone. I'm to tired to stand up now and two proud to fall, I wish I would have turned around and gone back home.

The days turn to weeks, the weeks become years and the years become a lifetime, before you find out where you are, you've been there to long. Now the echos of voices fall silent and their only the ghosts in my mind, as I look to find all the familiar faces gone.

And this is where I hide my lifetime of promises, I've locked them up deep inside a frozen tear away. I'm to tired to stand up now and to proud to fall, I wish I would have asked you to stay.

redemption

I'm lost and afraid to find the truth, because the truth is to hard to take, with all of these hidden lives and blind mistakes. All this time, seems like a test of life, or is life the test of time, as we close our eyes, hearts and minds...and it's hard to believe when you have faith in nothing...and I find myself wandering, searching for a sign...and I don't believe in fate, but I seem to hope for chance, or maybe, I'm just blind.

I thought I found God and I tried to believe, but it was just a waste of time.  I've seen the wars, hate and lies.  So now I've come down, broken and scarred and I tried to hide my fears, but then slipped and fell through the years...and it's hard to believe when you have faith in nothing...and I find myself wandering, searching for a sign...and I don't believe in fate, but I seem to hope for chance, or maybe, I'm just blind.

I tried to love, but couldn't shed a tear, there's just nothing left inside.  Now I walk alone afraid to find the way, because redemption take some time.

images from a fractured mind

One Step Closer To The Edge

One step Closer to the edge, I'm tired of pushing back these days, the fight is gone. One more step will ease the pain, I'm so empty inside, so I close my eyes.

Looking back at all the years, as a child I was taught to have faith.
They taught me how to feel good, then they took my pleasures away.
I was born knowing how to laugh and then they taught me how to hate,
so I tried to close my eyes.

I always thought of them as heros, how they could stand in front of the crowds and shout.
Now those heros have caused all my pain, and left me broken and full of doubt,
So I closed my eyes

And then the light fades and I feel the cold flowing through my veins,
and I floating helplessly, in and out of time.
I wish I could remember how it feels, to walk in the rain.