Sunday, April 01, 2007
My former selves (ghosts, 'false personality' resonant fragments, whatever) chide me continuously for my loneliness. They remind me that I have almost always had enough to eat, a roof over my head to ward the rain and chill, and books (treasures, to a Sage, priceless beyond imagination, to be dreamed of and sought for in past lifetimes) yes, BOOKS! All the books in the world at my beck, and still I pine for a woman to share my joys and sorrows . . . it seems my desire for a mate is held in low esteem by those whom my Soul sacrificed in incarnations prior to this one, and my perceived petulance when surrounded by the things that THEY most desired when THEY were alive is hard for them to abide. They think me weak. So be it. I make no apologies. We all suffer, have suffered and will suffer for our Souls' sake. My plight is no less painful than theirs, though they see it not, so I thus live with their disdain ringing in my mind, every second of every day and every night. Slainte`.
Posted by Jon Thrasher at 1:31 PM