Secret Love

Once I had a secret love
That lived within the heart of me
All too soon my secret love
Became impatient to be free

So I told the friendly star
The way that dreamers often do
Just how wonderful you are
And why I’m so in love with you

Now I should it from the highest hills
Even told the golden daffodils
At last my heart’s an open door
And my secret love’s no secret anymore

141

Gabcast! Joseph’s Audio Diary #3

Se Me Hizo Fácil

SE ME HIZO FACIL

Se me hizo fácil
borrar de mi memoria
a esa mujer a quién
yo amaba tanto.

Se me hizo fácil
borrar de mí ese llanto.
ahora la olvido
cada día más y más.

La abandoné
porque me fue preciso,
así abandono la mujer
que a mí me ofende.

Voy a buscar un amor
que me comprenda,
la otra la olvido
cada día más y más.

La abandoné
porque me fue preciso,
así abandono la mujer
que a mí me ofende.

Voy a buscar un amor
que me comprenda,
la otra la olvido
cada día más y más.

Dear Peter…

The following letter is to Peter Holyk, my best friend. I felt it was so good enough to have a journal entry, so I have copied it here.

 Dear Peter,
 
I hope your birthday went along well, and I so enjoyed talking to you yesterday that a strong desire pushed me late this evening to write you a letter–at least something that you could have to give presence to me there; for I know you enjoy my correspondences to you. I’m so glad everything turned out well yesterday. I’m so happy that you got your Mac! I remember you telling me how much you wanted one, and I could imagine you as you went window shopping for one. What irked me originally was the fact that you had had a bit of a crying spell this afternoon when David came home–I was not sure of whether you were pulling my leg or just being manic or something, but it concerned me. I guess it sums up that we both inevitably are along the same wavelength of emotions and psychological reactions, whatever those may be. And if you were pulling my leg, you’re very good at it, as I am now overtly concerned with your mental state. But then again, weren’t you a bit hypomanic today?

As I do not have the proper postage to send you a letter, I am improvising–sending an e-mail, I think is much more expedient, given the general clumsiness of our Postal Services–and while even though an e-mail seems so much colder than a warm fuzzy piece of white printer paper, I feel like all of my sentiments are carried here as if they were etched out on parchment. I almost never write like this (formal). I love calling you all my Texan pet names–darlin’, sweetheart, etc., but writing to you in this way gives this letter an air of importance. I always seem to muse about what I write; I don’t know why, but I all find it quite interesting. Never mind. I wish I could express to you all the sentiments I’m feeling, but I don’t know how. Words are insufficient, and you already know my mental and emotional state.

And it’s so funny, I can tell you most anything over the telephone and I know you would listen, and react. Right now I can’t describe how I’m feeling–these are the polar opposites of the day. Usually I feel so hopeless and depressed in the morning and then hopeless and depressed in the evening too. Late nights are always the worse, when I’m up here at the computer after a 30 minute walk outside to look at the stars, and then coming back to the lonely glow of the monitor against the sad white walls of the dining room. It’s so tiring seeing the same things everyday–the brilliant, hot sunlight streaming through the plaid-curtained windows, the sound of my uncle plying his noisy trade outside in the carport, and the dismal whirr of the ceiling fans in mid morning. And then in the evening, the same whirring sounds, but now only punctuated by the caterwauling of the cats fighting outside over territory or breeding rights or morsels of food. I wish I could speak sometimes, and shatter everything, all the images and the same dreary things. I don’t even know how to express them in words. It’s like they serve no purpose anymore.

I remember somewhere in a book by Carson McCullers that the only real tragedies–the ones that we truly feel sorry for–are the little ones. You can mourn someone’s passing for a couple of months or years and then get over it, but that’s nothing compared to losing your life savings on a bus ride or something, or finding that you lost an heirloom. Something irreplaceable (and yes, that even goes so far as saying something like losing a person). I think you and I are victims of those tragedies–the inconsistencies of our minds and the providentiality of our circumstances have allowed for hurt and pain to enter our lives. I wonder sometimes if things are this way because of me violating some eternal cosmic law or something like that. As a Christian, I’m compelled to believe that God does not punish, but I can’t help thinking that He’s doing so right this very instant. Sometimes I feel as if it’s not going to get any better, as if what I’m struggling against is going to win out. What scares me most is failure, and I’m so terrified of it I can’t even explain what it does to me. I feel sometimes when things go wrong I need to crawl up in a corner and not look–to keep looking at the twilit white of the wall and tell myself it’s all going to end sometime, just not now.

I guess I felt so bad today because I felt like there wasn’t a way out, and even though I know things are going to get better I don’t seriously know; I don’t explicitly know what’s going on. I know I just don’t want to endure living here, in Limbo, without anything to feel happy about, aside from distant happinesses. However it’s those same happinesses that keep me afloat, the same things that force me to live–the sweet prospect of better things to come. And yet I’m so scared of what might happen in the future that I don’t know how to react: I guess I just want to live without pain and suffering–no more. I can’t take it physically. Thank God for the medication I have, or else it would have been much much worse.

I guess I’ve been thinking alot about suicide–vacillating in between how right and wrong it is, and what should happen if things didn’t get any better, and what I would have to do about it. There are some days where all I want to do is get to the end of the day, and sleep, and not have to worry about depressing things, for it only seems I am at peace in my dreams. In my dream world I walk alone among foothills and mountains in alpine splendor, in canyons filled with fading light and pristine night-showers of precious rain. I so wish the world could be like that!–no more fighting, no more sickness or death, just the eternity of life growing in harmony with one another. See, I want that for everything and everybody. I don’t want you to suffer the same way I am hurting so much right now–I want you to live, and be happy, and to never have to take pills again. I know the world can be like that, and we only have to make it a reality…it’s so simple too. I hope one day that it might happen to me, to live by myself in a place out in the mountains or in the woods, away from people. That’s all I ever wanted to begin with. I’ve already discovered it’s too much to be subjected to so much torment at the hands of people. Not even Mother Nature herself could do that.

If there’s anything, however, that you have taught me to realize, it’s that you love me, and I love you so much, in so many ways. And even if we never have what we wish for, I’m still glad I can count on you as my best friend, the person I can tell these things to. I haven’t been able to ever tell anyone what I’ve told you–things that I never told my own mother, or even Ryan. I try to put on a happy face for everyone else, but for you, and only you–do I ever show who I really am. And that’s no understatement. You’re the best friend anyone could ever ask for, and I totally appreciate your honesty and generosity.

Goodness me! I’m crying now as I’m writing this, and feeling so sad right now. Things are so tough right now, Peter; I know you know that–and I know they’ll get better–they have to. I will just have to up my medication a little further and hope for the best. I feel so lost and misunderstood, I don’t know what to do. I know you understand though. And I’m so glad I have your support.

I’ll see you in the morning.

Thanks for everything.

Joe