suffer the little children

How do you keep out the suffering of others from the solitude of your mind? How do you prevent the invasion of the cerebral trespassers? I've never been able to. Like it or not, the demons will find their way into my thoughts, and sooner or later they will breed like the maleficence that they are. Black mariahs transmogrify into dreadful thoughts, and back again.

There is no 'straight and narrow path' in my head. The closest thing resembling a roadmap of my consciousness would probably be the streets of late-19th century London on its darkest nights -- where it's cold, filthy and delapidated; the murky alleyways carrying the stink of debauchery; the countless cobblestone pavements with dead-ends where the cloven-footed wait for the naïve and the gullible; where the children cry every night in their beds for fear of the unknown; and newborns die needlessly on account of mysterious illnesses still unheard of and a medical community too afraid to find out; where the taverns and inns serve absinthe to men sickened with despair for the loss of innocence and the God that failed them; as Jack the Ripper lurks in the shadows and delights at the prospect of meeting his next unsuspecting victim; where one false step could lead you to your very worst nightmare.

It's not a nice place to visit (and I wouldn't recommend taking a look; never a pretty sight). As I've said, the demons see what they like and in turn, seem to like what they see. And as far as I can tell, they have no intention of leaving. Uninvited guests overstaying their welcome (not that they were welcome to stay in the first place).

Looks like I don't need anyone to paint my picture black; I can do that all by myself! To be fair (while sustaining the metaphor), there are times -- and these are the moments I look forward to every single day of my life -- when the fog clears, and everything is not as bleak as it seems. There are times when lady luck smiles favorably upon me. Heck, I can even see the sun sometimes! And the London rain washes away the muck and the filth, and the streets become uncluttered; the malapropos transgressors of the mind swept away like the inconsequential flotsam that they are. The fumes, thick and nebulous, previously blotting out the sun from view gives way to an atmosphere of such forceful brilliance you would cry tears of joy so painfully sweet, and you begin to wish this would never end.

The air (oh, how I wish you could smell the air!) turns so fresh and breathable you could bottle an ounce and sell it on e-bay for a hefty profit, though you wouldn't because you'd want to breathe it yourself; air so crystalline clear you could see for miles all around you, and cut through the red tape and the lies that have thus far impeded you for so long. You could finally be free, unfettered by the emotional baggage of existence and the unbearable weight of reality and everything else that is undesirable to you.

And that's when you begin to realize that some things are too good to be true and, ironically, that's the truth. You tell yourself: "You're right… whatever happened happened to the dying children and the evil monsters of today? Whatever happened to the sorrow and the pain, the greed and the ugliness? Whatever happened to the problems that serve to lessen the dignity of Man and tarnish the name of God? Whatever happened to the endless cycle of violence heaped upon the helpless and the innocent?"

Why, they're still here. Hits me like a kick in the gut, every single time. They're all here. You see, the demons never left. They were here all along, hidden from view. And now they're taunting you, reminding you that you've just deluded yourself. Oh, why do I keep deceiving myself? There is no light at the end of the tunnel, at least not until we've all learned our lesson (and from the looks of it, we're gonna have to wait for quite awhile).

Don't they see it? Amidst the weapons of mass destruction and the serial killers, the warmongers and the paedophiles, the murderers and the suicide bombers? Amidst their indifference, and their cowardice, and their excessive indulgence? Can't they see they've chosen the wrong path, that somewhere along the way they've taken a turn for the worse? Can't we? Whatever happened to the sanctity of life and the ideals of our forefathers and the virtues of humanity we agreed upon?

The only thing I've accomplished here is to remind myself again that the children are still suffering, and I have done nothing to mitigate this. Sadly, that is not good enough. And I don't choose to pretend that it is. In the words of a man much smarter than I am (by the name of Eugene V. Debs),

"Years ago I recognized my kinship with all living things, and I made up my mind that I was not one bit better than the meanest on the earth. I said then and I say now, that while there is a lower class, I am in it; while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free."

I am not free. And I am not one bit better than the meanest on the earth. And I'm probably laying this too thick, even by my standards. I guess this is what one would expect from a manic-depressive insomniac with too much time on his hands (hell, I've got class in the morning). Anyway, I'm practically writing this for myself (closest thing I'll get to therapy). I'm letting it all out. I'm keeping it together.

If you're still reading this, I apologize for taking so much of your time. Britney says "Get in the zone," and Madonna agrees. I can't seem to get out of it. I'll try to keep it short and light next time. More reader-friendly, if you will. And if I may offer some advice, it is this: one should never heed the incessant ramblings of a manic-depressive insomniac with too much time on his hands.

Oh, no! I've created some kind of paradox! Okay, okay, I'll stop now.

PLAYLIST

Praying For Time -- George Michael

Karma Police -- Radiohead

Seven Nation Army -- The White Stripes

Everybody Wants To Rule The World -- Tears For Fears

Fortune Faded -- Red Hot Chili Peppers