LJ Idol - Wheel of Chaos - Wk 2 - If It's Any Consolation

[bleodswean]

If it’s any …
 

It isn’t.
 

I just thought …
 

Don’t. Your thoughts are. Hesitation. Rudimentary. But sincere. I recognize that.
 

Well. For most …
 

Stop. Please. I’m not most.
 

Silence, broken then with. 
 

There is no comfort, no consolation, you see? There is only a letting go. My releasing. Mine. It is a great sluicing of water from off the skin when surfacing out of the depths. A leprosy in which the body sheds its recognizable humanity. Akin to fire, flooding, all the great equalizers of the human spirit is loss. 
 

No pain can be endless.
 

Time lessens, nothing heals. Perhaps the final loss, the dissolution of self. There is that momentary pause in which the soul tells the self rest rest rest now. With those strange urgent shushings the mind exhales and closes an interior eye and the soul sighs and the body relaxes. 
 

Always with the most extreme of analogies.
 

It’s how I process. How I’m formed. The shape of me in this incarnation is allegorical. I admit it. Is it unbearable of me to explain a poetic inclination? 
 

Of course not. 
 

Catch me in one of those expirations then. That numbing prelude to a sleep brought on by the physical and existential exhaustion of the quivering small beast caught in the snare incapable of the final severing of the trapped limb. Perhaps, between respirations I will show gratitude for whatever platitude you long to utter. With such kindness in the dulcet tones of your compassion. 
 

So insulting. But I forgive you.
 

It is no kindness to me. I’m admitting this to you now so that there can be no misunderstanding between us afterwards. In the quiet of acceptance, in the weaking of the bleeding out. You offered me not a ligature, not even a bandage, only the word bandage. Followed by an expectation of a deed done well. Yet, I will nod and listen insomuch as I am able before the next suck breath moment in which I am once again filled with not a gain but a loss. Filled with loss, if you can imagine such a thing. You who have been unlucky to suffer not. Yes, I say unlucky, yes, I call you cursed for your wholeness, your innocence of these mortal woundings, of the soul’s agonies. 
 

And you, I suppose, are blessed by this devastation?
 

Confounded and cast out by the privilege of cataclysmic injury yet I finger the beads and whisper the prayers and allow my eyes to roll back in their sockets from the sheer unknowingness of meaning, the definition of absolutes. Our mother, our father. All these soulful beings arting in their heavens. There is a consecration in catastrophe. 
 

I disagree. You are martyring yourself to this.
 

Martyr? Laughing. This laying on of hands while the blade is hidden in the sleeve, dropped into the palm, the knife snicking out plunging into the heart between the ribs through the lungs a great sucking sound when its pulled back out. Taking life itself with it. The body heartbeating to death through the collapsing arteries.
 

All this because I wanted nothing more than to offer succor.
 

Are you familiar with the consolation prize, my friend? 
 

Certainly, narrowly failing to win.
 

No, finishing last. 
 

Yet recognized! 
 

I don’t want to be recognized for my wounding. Your sympathy is of no value to me. Only to you. So, in an earnest effort to be brotherlike, to recognize that you too will one day bleed, I bite my tongue at refusing your solace. Give it here. In great bucketloads. Pour it out and over me. I’ll hold my breath to keep from drowning in your mollification. It offers some respite, admittedly, to others. 
 

It’s that you can’t bear to be likened to others.

 

Comments

[muchtooarrogant]

Just an FYI, your entry is currently locked.

What a great conversation.

"Perhaps, between respirations I will show gratitude for whatever platitude you long to utter. With such kindness in the dulcet tones of your compassion. "

No, not compassion, never that! LOL I picture two old friends who love bickering above all else. Although, I too try to be an optimist, and it really seems to hack some people off. Ah well.

Dan

[bleodswean]

Thanks, Dan! And thanks for letting me know about the filter! It's funny, isn't it, how some people do get irritated by upbeat smiling folks who see the silver lining!!! Don't ever change, sir!

[author_by_night]

This was very well written.

[bleodswean]

Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I appreciate that!

[serpentinejacaranda]

The conflict here feels like it's between two people with two different life experiences, but the form insinuates a kind of interior dialogue - a mind anticipating the soothing words and responses the speaker is sure will come, and must be rejected. In that way the person "on the outside" attempting mollification might not even be aware of this dialogue taking place!

The polysyllabic weight makes the dialogue feel unassailable, much as all compassion bounces off a pain the speaker feels is too strong to comment upon, except by those who have lived it.

I think this piece represents a strong, head-on tackling of the prompt, one of the best uses I've seen so far.

[bleodswean]

Your kindness and understanding are humbling and encouraging and I'm deeply appreciative. Yes, I think this is an internal dialogue. And what does one do when one can't even accept solace from oneself...then the only response is to break down and analyze the rejection. To try to quantify the unbridgeable gap, even inside one's own lived experience, one's own mind.

[drippedonpaper]

I'm glad to see this comment from you as it gave me a lot to think about.

I tell my kids, "You are the only person you will be with forever, so try to be kind to yourself."

I spent so many years hating myself and that's the worst, as you cannot get away from yourself.

I wish you luck and wisdom to sort out the hardest relationship we have...with ourselves. Add any regrets and yes, it's quite a repeated challenge.

[alycewilson]

Yes, this is how it feels sometimes. Like when my husband's first instinct is to come at me with hugs when I just tolerate them and don't have the heart to tell him I'd really rather be left alone with my feelings.

[bleodswean]

It's interesting when we feel obligated by another person's need to offer comfort and solace. I suppose there is a teaching in that, as well. Glad you have a close by hugger, though, A!

[alycewilson]

He does give very good hugs! (And so does KFP.)

But yes, the offering of solace and comfort is often an awkward and unequal transaction.

[halfshellvenus]

I think I feel a little differently about this, and so I'm struggling with a response.

I agree that platitudes do not lessen the pain, especially anything resembling the idea that the deceased is now "in a better place." I wish I could believe that to be true, but as an agnostic, I don't-- so those are often the emptiest words of all.

But for me, the one thing that helps the tiniest bit is knowing that others see my pain and are sorry for it because they care about me, and/or that they also grieve the loss of the person I loved. The resonance of shared pain is a fleeting moment of comfort against the experience of the world spinning onward as if nothing has changed, as if no terrible absence has occurred.

Nothing truly helps much, but some things help a little in the moment, at least for me.

[bleodswean]

A piece of writing that generates thoughtful discourse is a worthy goal, K! So thanks for sharing your thoughts! I continue to be astonished at some of the things that are said to people grieving. ASTONISHED. And there is a grace in just accepting those utterances and moving on. The key is intent, I believe. And recognizing that.

Of course, there can be comfort found in knowing that another person desperately wants to take some pain away or lessen the pain or offer themselves as a source of solidness when everything is falling to pieces! I would never argue otherwise! I think your final sentence is the maturation of the Self - the realization that our journeys are pretty solitary, ultimately.

[xeena]

for me, the one thing that helps the tiniest bit is knowing that others see my pain and are sorry for it because they care about me, and/or that they also grieve the loss of the person I loved. Oh my yes, that's exactly how it is for me too, it's like even though our individual experiences are things we have to feel alone, not being alone helps us bear the weight of it. Grief never gets any easier but for someone like me who despises feeling alone or lonely, support is the only thing that makes me feel even slightly better.

[roina_arwen]

This is a bit of an odd piece, the way it seems very stream of consciousness, but I like it.

I adore this line in particular: The body heartbeating to death through the collapsing arteries.

[bleodswean]

Thanks, ro! I'm all about experimentation these past few Idols. We are blessed in Idol to have such great readers and commenters and I hope I don't abuse them too too much! Glad that verb worked for you there!

[legalpad819]

This makes me think of the situation where someone THINKS they have the best intentions, but really they're just not understanding the other person at all.

[bleodswean]

So often that is the muddy way in which we must cross back and forth to one another. And yes, navigating that is difficult! Sometimes, we must just accept one another's humanity with grace! Thanks for reading - really appreciate your thoughts here!

[eeyore_grrl]

"no pain can be endless" but oh the feel of it... i see you.

[bleodswean]

yes yes yes

[wolfden]

SO my brain read it as human talking to AI but I can also very much see it as internal monologue. Well done.

[bleodswean]

Oooooh! I like that! I hadn't thought of it and now I'm jealous I didn't. I sure appreciate you reading and commenting!

[xeena]

I adore this and your beautiful imagery as always.

What stood out to me here was it feels like someone trying to convince themselves of something, but knowing it's no good. Along the lines of "if it's any consolation, you're not alone" etc. And I love the go between because I can relate to both, because I've never found comfort in solitude at all, if anything it just worsens how I feel because I have so many bad memories associated with the feeling of being alone/loneliness. Yet at the same time despite having the comfort of support, no one can feel your exact pain or emotions because everyone is stll an individual! I absolutely love this, it made me cry a bit remembering the recent death of someone I loved so dearly.

Time lessens, nothing heals. This is my favorite line, it's so true.

[bleodswean]

*kisses* Thank you, dearheart. Your words, feelings, thoughts matter so much to me.

[rayaso]

This is so wonderful! I love the dialog format and there is such a poetic quality to this. People can say awful things trying to comfort those grieving a loss. I know someone who lost her daughter due to illness. She hated it when people would aske her "How are you doing?" She always thought, "my daughter is dead, how the #### do you think I'm doing?" Another in your truly great series of entries. I love your writing and always look forward to your entry. I know I'll be astonished.

[bleodswean]

Thanks, G! I really believe that the example you've cited here is the deepest of human despair and in cases such as those there simply are no words that can be soothing. Physical presence is a different kind of balm. We are such fragile creatures and platitudes can be injurious to the thinness we feel during our lowest struggles.

Always love your comments! And Idol is back and we are having fun!

[rayaso]

I agree with this. I have always appreciated your sensitivity.

[inkstainedfingertips]

This sounds like a conversation one might have with one's self when trying to cope with some emotional trauma. It's really relatable. Familiar. There's a bleakness in your words that really resonates with me. Really nicely done.

[bleodswean]

Thank you! Yes, I can definitely see it as an internal back-and-forth conversation. I appreciate you reading and commenting.

[fausts_dream]

Not offering me a ligature or even a bandage but just the word bandage...

And laying on his hands with the blade in the sleeve... Those two turns of phrase probably stick with me after the competition is over.

Well done here

[gunwithoutmusic]

Gosh, how I relate to this. It's hard to accept grace from others when we can't do accept it from ourselves, and easy to view platitudes as insincere just because they're platitudes.