blindelectual

Some things are mysterious. Spiritual things, but also earthly things. Art is a mystery to me too. I can say a few things about it, but I can't explain art entirely. Especially the process of making art is mysterious.

And I think this is a call for decency - not to rob things of its mystery. Orson Welles made a film in which he said that he didn't like people to land on the moon. The moon is fragile. The moon you can see from the earth is not quite the same moon you can travel to in a rocket. Let's leave the moon her mystery. Otherwise the moon starts to cry, and to break apart.

Today me and dad went eating and shopping in the Czech Republic again. It was good, but not as good as usual. I had spaghetti with a meat and paprika and onions sauce; the menu said something about a meat sauce so I expected something like spaghetti bolognese, but it was something else entirely. Well, it was ok but next time I'm gonna order something different.

In the afternoon I felt miserable and doubting and worrying, but later today I suddenly found myself desiring to make some music, so I picked up my bass and had a good time. I'm glad I got that bass last year, it's much better than my old one and plays easily.

I've been talking with my mom about my wanting to move to Chemnitz, and she's ok with it but she thinks I don't have enough money for this. And I fear she's right. Right now things are really nice moneywise, I have enough for myself and can afford some movies, games and books now and then, but if I live for myself again I won't be able to do this anymore. And I'm also afraid of getting lonely again. Here in Epppendorf I have my mother, but in Chemnitz I would need to find myself some good friends first. Though moving there is only a question of time, my parents are getting old and some day I'll simply have to get out here again.

Yesterday I met someone new in my life, in the internet again. She's a woman from Portugal.

She reminds me to Indira a lot. She is extremely intelligent and educated, has a wide array of interests and skills.

She's schizoid, and that may prove a bit difficult.

At first I thought, the pattern strikes again. I get better with my health, and suddenly a woman knocks at my door again. Sometimes I think there are metaphysical laws governing chance and identity. I've also had the thought, God wants to train me, to let me have helpful acquaitances. He wants me to prove now that I got away from how I once was. That I'm not pulling off these frenzied dances anymore, and instead remain humble and ... rational.

I'm a bit frightened. I have enormous respect for highly intelligent people. But in the same time, there's always a little misery mixed into this respect, for me. The thoughts, will I be accepted? Or will I be rejected? Will I mean something to this person, can I give them something from me that they will value?

My schizophrenia often has to do with the fear of rejection. And I can't avoid that because it's impossible for me to learn so much and get to understand as much as these people who have devoted themselves to understanding for many years. No matter if I like it or not, I must be contend with humility.

I am thinking a lot of the book of Knulp, from Hermann Hesse. That book offers me the role I can play, that of a reject who turned his being a reject into something beautiful. The book is very sad and melancholic at times, but it has a message of hope for me.

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters

Portia Nelson


1) I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost . . . I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in . . . it's a habit.
My eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

5) I walk down another street.

I've been talking of my new views on this on other forums, and they told me I'm wrong.

I'm not seeing through it entirely. I feel like there is a wall before my eyes through which I just can't break.

"break on through to the other side" JM Who knew I might be quoting the doors on my religious journey.

I've often tried to be reasonable, to understand the whole thing. And then to move on based on having learned to see through, to comprehend.

Have you ever tried understanding the devil? No? That's good, because I think we should only attempt to understand the good, and those we love.

I don't trust reason because I can't see any results of a focus on reason. There is something in me, something old, from my atheist childhood, that I venerated the world, and communist philosophy, materialism and all. As a little kid, mind you. It's like I started to think earlier than others, but without real guidance. Learning and teaching should be a personal affair, so that confusion and misunderstanding can be more easily recognized.

I still think I was largely right. I should not sacrifice myself on the altar of reason. I've done this so many times. I am a christian, Indira is an atheist, so I must also cling to atheism a little to have her. Is that the consequence of romantic love? If that be the case, I have started to understand Paul telling us to stay unmarried and living only for Jesus. It's much easier.

I know there is something fundamental about my mistrust of reason that has to do with these demons or with the schizo, depending on how you see the whole thing. Let's just call it an effectively malicious force able to twist my thoughts while I am making them. IE, suppose you want to kick yourself in the ass, and so you say loudly, in your head, "I believe in God and that He loves me, so I am gonna trust Him now and quit thinking". If that happens with me, it's guaranteed that I "hear" this thought in my mind differently, or that I see a head in my mind that speaks what I wanted to say, either so that it sounds shallow, foolish, mean, stupid, ambitious, wicked, etc, or so that the thought is differently entirely, to the point that I then think I have thought "I do not believe in God, it is foolish to have faith, I'm never gonna trust the supernatural again and just will play computer games so I at least will have some fun in life", or something like that.

If you can't trust most of your thoughts anymore, you can't trust reason anymore.

And I won't do that again. I'm reasonable enough even without consciously trying to be reasonable. I have enough capability of understanding without being a master of reason, or something.

When I am spiritual I have all I need. Life and peace. I let Jesus do the reasoning. I have the word on which to stand, and the commandment of love to put everything into perspective.

Lately God is really investing Himself in our relationship, revealing things to me which earlier I could not accept. One of these things is a new understanding how spirit and reason are related. The first thing He teaches me is that spirit must always be given priority over reason. Reason is meant primarily for earthly things, like for building a house and for organizing a project or something. Spirit I need primarily for my relationship with God, but it also stretches out into every other area of my life. At this point it also appears to me that spirit is ALWAYS perfect. That is natural, because the spirit in me is the breath of God. To have spirit means to have freedom in this world, and to enjoy it innocently only. The spirit conveys the innocence of Christ to us, there is no way to lead a life with only little sin without following the spirit.

I'm seeing a lot of love in this. God gives me a share of Himself once more, like He does with a few other things as well. I'm feeling like I am reaching my telos, my meaning. I am becoming the one I shall become. It's deeply liberating. It's getting to the point where I feel real satisfaction in my faith ... I've had faint pieces of this before, but this is a new level of it. A central piece was always missing. But now I feel more complete.

Since a week or so I am utterly bored of computer games. I've tried to play some of it, but doing so seems like a chore now, and childish, and incredibly boring. I have had such phases often this year.

I'm always feeling a little confused by people who claim to have good intentions and who want to do good, yet deny God. It's poking me somehow. I've been that way too.

Lately I am perceiving what original sin is, and I believe it is to desire life without caring for God. A person who "agrees" with original sin and does not stand against it, may very well be able to lead a happy life. Good things are good things. Researching a medicine that helps people would be a good deed for both a christian or an atheist scientist.

My own family has been good to each other even in the times when none of us was a serious christian.

But since I started out to be a serious christian, I see the flaw in all of this. My reason cannot entirely grasp it, but my spirit does. For example, when I see my dad's bitterness towards God. Or when I talk with someone who claims to be genuinely happy once having fully rejected God. My reason, my old understanding, isn't contrary to such things, at least it is willing to compromise, as usual. But my spirit cringes somehow, looking around for guidance and feeling scared.

I suppose we all have slightly different temptations. For some the temptation to embrace free love and screw with every woman in sight is something they can hardly resist, even when they really know it's wrong. For me the temptation of being reasonable, so far, is the greatest temptation. But reason alone is not reasonable at all. It denies the value of experience. It accepts God, but only begrudgingly, because it has decided that feeling free is better than feeling love. It clings to the idea of absolute freedom as if that were even a possibility in life. It's like trying to resist the urge for heroine.

The spirit stays in me and makes me longsuffering. I do not obsess about it anymore. But I feel it would be wise of me to learn even more how reason is to be mistrusted when you are a christian. Something inside of us is quite satanic. A kind of indifference deep down, which prevents both peace and glorious victory.

20.8.2009
~

like a wave
the water of understanding
failing, disappearing quickly
the water of power righteous
winning, gaining
like waves
the boat of self
made of wood
will always swim
it's small enough
just existing
amidst the waves
amidst the waves

There is a movie out there, named "The cube", and it's a pretty scary flick if you take it serious. It is about 4 people who wake up and find themselves together in a room in a building that is "The cube". They don't know how they got there, but it's like an afterlife of sorts. There is a woman trained in logic and maths, a policeman, a catatonic schizophrenic, and an accomplished prison breaker. They discover that the cube is full of deadly traps, and they start to move from room to room. The woman calculates that somehwere there must be an exit, and that the cube building is turning its rooms around a little like a magic cube. The prison breaker overestimates himself and dies first. The policeman dies at some point too. In the end, the woman dies and the schizophrenic opens the last door and walks into the light.

This is pretty much like I felt often. Because of the schizo, it was like I was of no use to people anymore. I couldn't help them as much as they could not really help me. I just staggered along. But then, all the others who seemed so useful and smart and successful perished, and I walked into the light which I saw in God, something which was a delusion for many of the people I talked with.

19.8.2009
~

can't always be formulated
the confidence
the necessary yes to life
seems strong and fragile
in the same time
waiting for rewards
for being spared
but isn't an island?
beautiful but small
beautiful but lonely?
the seas of thought
roar, making the
deep inside you helpless
and powerless
no revenge anymore
so many try to veil this
to hide grace
to douse the flame
of divine love
untrue angels laughing
untrue angels hurting
but there is a
stronger love
going beyond death
flying, winging up high
the real friend
who alone knows God

love

a - nother small idea coming over
f - ishing gone without you
r - epairing a bad mood
i - nside of it, there's just a bird
e - leven children smiling
n - ever to think of hurting you
d - own by a funny river
s - peaking carefully
p - eaks of happiness
e - nding the parasitic pain
a - llowing breath after breath
k - issing my cheeks
s - tepping with me into the future

I just had a long talk with mom and dad. I'm not quite happy living here in Eppendorf. That is, it is ok, I can handle, but it's not the best idea of life for me. My mother said, if I wanted I should get myself a place in some assisted living project. I agreed with that. But my dad is afraid that I might "drown" when I am on my own again.

I'm not quite sure what I should think. I believe the assisted living appartment is a good idea, but in a sense my dad is right, I will encounter difficulties and I am not entirely stable so coping with the difficulties will mean a challenge.

Psychically, my greatest problem these days is that I feel isolated and lonely. I do have my parents and I cherish them, but still the feeling lingers. It feels like nobody really can understand me. My friend Indira once said that to think I can understand someone else is presumptous and wrong. I get where she's coming from, but I have this notion in me that once at least some people understood me, saw my urgent needs, loved me. I mean, when I was little I had fever and nightmares sometimes, but my mom knew a trick that always helped me. It always felt wonderful when mom helped me out of the nightmares, and so I trusted and felt approbriately understood. She saw my pain and delivered me, that was understanding for me.

I've had this happen at other times in my life too. Small, usually isolated incidents. But they were there.

I also think God understands me. Sometimes He has broken through to me very strongly. It was wonderful. But from these encounters I also learned that I need to be mindful of God, remembering that obedience really is a must. I mean, one time many years ago I was laying in bed, thoroughly terrified of voices I was hearing and not knowing how to handle the fears that were plaguing me. Then I prayed, Father Jesus, help me, and suddenly I saw before my eyes a nest with little birds in it, all of them with open beaks, and chirping for food. The same day I went out into the park and met a very kind old man with whom I talked for a while. My mistake then was to insist on my pain, that before I would do anything I wanted to have all of my pain removed. That was a big mistake. I've learned that Jesus usually doesn't seem to take your pain away, but if you trust Him and treat Him with love and respect, He will influence your life such that gradually pain subsides. Without you trusting Him, Jesus only gives you the usual blessings, the rain, sunshine, etc, but if you want help from Jesus in a personal relationship you must care about the trust requirement. It's not that hard actually, but our minds are unused to trusting so we don't always know what it is.

It seems to me, if I want understanding, I have to try to understand others. God understands me, but He also wants me to understand Him, that I understand not just in my head, but in my heart, that God is the sustainer of life and that I must not have reservations about Him.

So my decision is this: I must start investigating my options in moving out, but I must turn to God with these things. Only He can make sure that I won't drown in loneliness or inability to handle life. I must be completely willing to be obedient in all things.

15.9.2009
~

die scheiben kreischen zerbrechend. wahrheitsgeräusche.
am nichts scheiternde realität. weil es so bleiben soll?

ich laufe umher wie ein zebra gefüllt mit beiden irren lichtern:
der großen hoffnung und der mütterlichen verzweiflung

meiner seele. die blaue hand muß weiter schreiben.
stückwerke. selbstverlustsiege. rotweißblumenalles.

verzückt in die stille kreatur hineingelauscht. zertrampelt
das selbst! der dämon geifert und ich will mich nicht mehr brauchen.

weil die mutter weint und der vater schläft. im stillen haus
der heimat. unter dem alten alten himmelskleid blauschwarz.

15.9.2009
~why

why are we angry
at a crucified man?
trying to oblige
dark or silly secrets
to create ourselves

apart from Him
there is nothing
really real
everything dubious
everything transient

I've always been
looking for the tangible
my greatest enemy
was my still heart
why didn't it learn
from the crucified man?

to weep, to scream,
to wrap others in my warm blood
to accept the condition of pain
and the condition of freedom,
of love, of sacrifice

it's not logical
it's not reasonable
but it's conquering everything
eventually
from daisies to mountains to
kind and silly people and to
human devils

hell is waiting
heaven is waiting
but Jesus isn't
grasping my hand and
saying just don't give up
I will do the rest

I've just been out in the garden to help my dad a little. Now I sit here and think about it, and it seems that in this one hour of helping him I have achieved more than in the whole rest of the day up to that hour.

Thoughts are important, but actions are the truly necessary bit of life. It seems to me as if a curious mind can be betrayed by lusting for thoughts.

The real important things in my life, were not those of thoughts. My baptism. Kissing Monique the first time. Reading Indira's first email. Being with Reiny on the day before he died.

Talking of Reiny, I miss him, badly. He was the kind of guy you just have to love. He had his flaws too, but provided we can love then even our faults are beautiful.

That's love's only condition: you must love too. Don't loiter in the grey area between love and hate, where you are safe from the agony of hatred but also where indifference grows and where sometimes greater evil is produced than in the realms of hatred.

I've found a good site about psychosis:

http://www.helene-beitler.de/bilderpsychose.html

I feel very inspired. I also need to find a way to express the schizophrenia, the fears, the delusions, the anger that sometimes overcomes me. But I only have poetry as a ressource. I can't paint, not even draw. And I'm not good enough with the bass guitar either.

Ok, here's a first try:

14.8.2009
~

schizophrenia, the giant steps down the hill
finding his head at the foot and starts crying

schizophrenia, all that I am is an anthill,
the queen is called nothing and lifeless

schizophrenia, drinking from imagery but
it's no sustenance, so I must eat from the stones, too

schizophrenia, unwanted thoughts, unknown, an
evil fright and getting fatter (or thinner) by the day

schizophrenia, no respect, fright and hatred like
a soup that I serve everyone, in quietness and friendship

schizophrenia, totally unknown everything, hiding in
everyday life, oh my poor family, I have drowned them all

schizophrenia, so I go daily into the grey abyss,
not knowing, if, when, how .. will I see the sky again

Today I feel really awkwar. I slept nearly the whole morning. I think of I. a lot but it's not really making me happy. I feel pulled here, then there. It's very absurd. I'm confused. Why can't I just feel normal? Why can't I get the thought that it's just a good acquaintance, a friendship? It's always so mad and I can't get a grip on it. And it's always as if there are shadows lurking, as if someone manipulates all of this and hurts me and her all the time. No wonder I got delusional back then too. It's disturbing. I wish to cut it short and say to myself I only give her some luv, nothing extraordinary, nothing like the greatest love story of all time, ready to be seen in all movies. Why does it have to be so insane, so awkward and so confusing? Why isn't it simple?

Life is a little like an old video game. It seems to have levels, and boss fights, and power ups along the way. One could even say it keeps a score, though surviving and getting through is more important than getting the most points.

13.8.2009
~bist du nahe?

traum nicht koloriert. an tagen schwer und saftig wie
schwere trauben. ein neues unbekanntes, aus der
geliebten hand, und der geist sagt einfach ja.
in den nebel hinaus kriecht meine hoffnung, in
die himmel schwingt sich meine liebe, tief in die
erde gräbt sich mein glaube. ER hat gesiegt.
das kaputte hirn quetscht sich durch die türen,
schmerz ist der sechste sinn, und er lebt in
unbesiegbarer stärke. die tränen preisen ihn.
das herz gibt seine furcht preis, himmelsvögel
tragen ihn hinweg. meine worte fließen leise
hinab in die schluchten, wo die guten gedanken
wohnen und mit abendweinmündern einander
fröhlich die wange küssen. so schwillt das leben
an. den geiz zerreißt es. die gier zerflederts,
dem zorn vergeht sein lächeln und sein
blindes, totes glück. bist du nahe, liebes?