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2006-10-17 - 1:21 p.m.
Cockroaches, with their scuttling, manic, alien movements.
The horror of dying, being choked to death in the dark, cold, wet vestibule, twenty feet from the safety of home.
Guilt, regret, remorse, embarassment, fear, sadness, eroticism, pain:
All things pushed frantically out of mind, lest they overwhelm. Lest the mind dwell, and turn over, and over.
Let these thoughts go, like the meditationists admonish.
Let them go? Face them. Rationalize? Understand? Accept?
Or banish? (Let them go) Wall off? (how to let them go?) Isolate?
Let these thoughts whirl like a dust devil in their compartments growing their vortex of power? Or cast out. Deny. Ignore.
Reason? Understanding? Courage? Resignation?
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So, how do you like them apples?