Resolve My Existential Crisis and Elect to Live

Emancipation Day

A Professional tortured soul
Fighting every day to endure
Clever at running from agony
Midas Touch Sewage Engineer
Turning negative garbage into gold

I believe it was a big conspiracy
My house of many cards collapsed
Every one of them fell straight down
And I found myself stuck in the pit
Alone with no escape to be found

Stubborn-willed, self-sufficient atheist
Would I call on Him to save me
From the place that knows no Joy?
The longer I stay the deader I become
No alarm clock loud enough to wake me.

How can it be only two months in here
Already no dreams left that matter
Stay any longer my mind might shatter
This is a conspiracy. A set-up I tell you!
What the heck. It’s worth a try.

Begrudgingly acknowledge I have a soul
Agree the body can not live without Joy
Call upon the Blessed name of the Lord
To get me out of this dark unholy place
Deliverance, Pure Joy, and Bliss!

Bliss causes the Kundalini Genie to awaken

So you believe! Then prove your Loyalty!
As I got down on my knees in submission
I took the knife and sliced open my own chest
Diced up my lying heart and offered it up
Layer by Layer. Piece by Piece.

Hey, it wasn’t easy for a Midas Touch Sewage Engineer
to surrender all the angst to the Genie of Kundalini!
Tortured Soul. Freed Soul. Emancipation Day!
Stormy skies turned into Sunshine and Rainbows
Burned to ashes but an opportunity for happiness.
How does one live without angst?

Hark The Herald Sings:

Have you gotten the call?
Have you picked up the phone?
Not the one on the wall
In your heart all alone?

“It’s a conspiracy!” I said
From the Pit of Despair
“All Joy lines cut dead!”
But I found my soul there

And He lowered the stairs
So I could climb out
To show that He cares
It was just a “Time-Out”

My Kundalini is awake
And the world is changing
It is not a mistake
Priorities are re-arranging

I’ve been freed from myself
It is the Ego that dies
I’ll toss it on the shelf
It was so full of lies

Now, I can smile and see
Paradise below the dark
What was really meant to be
Was here all along. Hark!

Transition

A Psychotic break
Is not a mistake
It’s an Emergency call
For the ego to fall
A spiritually sent
Healing event

As if to say:

Don’t just survive
Now, you can thrive
Silence the voices
You are your choices
Get rid of fear
And live my dear!

Duped

My ego is a dupee and a duper
And its joke has been on me
I played my part just super
And I even paid a fee

I can see it so clearly now
I purchased many lies
Built identity on them Wow
They gave me lows and highs

Running toward or running from
Such agony it would cause
Looking for something to numb
The pain to put on pause

It might sound a bit insane
Or extremely paranoid too
But I will not trust a brain
That doesn’t know what’s true

I spent my first life running
Running from the pain
I’ll spend my next life fighting
Fighting to be sane

What would the world be like
If each one did their part
Told the ego “Take a hike”
And listened to the heart

Dark Night of a Soul: The Void

What place is this?
The darkest black hole
The blackest dark abyss
The nothing and my soul

I wake up with a gasp
A terror-stricken heart
And a frantic grasp
Did I die and depart?

How long was I there?
Umpteen years I perceive
Like a million I swear
But my senses deceive

The alarm clock beckons
I can’t believe my eyes
Gone for thirty seconds
Nothing but lies, lies, lies!

My stomach is furious
Raging to be heard
I’m no longer curious
My vision is blurred

Disoriented and humble
With feelings of dread
I’m ready to crumble
Have I lost my head?

Cognitive Consonance

In this solitude You gave me
It feels so strange, unreal and odd
How can I really be worry-free
If I don’t know who I am God

I lost myself to find myself
And I haven’t got a clue
My ego sits on top the shelf
I’m waiting to hear from You

I’ve got this funny feeling though
It’s not a mystery to be solved
And the answer I should know
Because the conflict was resolved

It appears the torment I endured
Was a self-created condition
And now that I have been cured
I’ll choose to break tradition

I won’t define the who of me
And will leave it in the air
Without a me by which to flee
I’ll fly up high and dare

The solution to this problem is acually very simple and you have done it many times in fact all things in the universe do it constantly. You simply continue. The question you keep asking is where the problem starts, you ask “Why am I doing this?”. But let me propose this to you why ask why? Why is a question that can only be answered when referenced against other objects and beings in your supposed existance. Which if you are in the process of questioning weather those things exist in the first place it becomes funny to look to them to provide your answers. Trying to label the universe or reality you currently reside in with a specific purpose will always be an excercise in futility. Take for instance the dream state most people enter and exit doing 1000’s of things with never one thought as to why. I saw your entry in the lucid section in the dream you are trying to force and shape a quantifable experiance but considering you are having trouble finding purpose in such a seemingly concrete experiance like the reality you are in while reading this it is no small wonder you are having trouble in a transient existance like the dream state. There is a saying in the NAVY that goes “Quit nuking it” it refers to the Nuclear Technitions in the NAVY and there tendancy to analyse things to the point where they lose the original context and thus the end answer immediatly becomes worthless. Don’t make the answer worthless no experiance is ,every single breath, every view from a bridge, all the sunrises, and lovers kisses, they all make you grow. That is what quantifies existance man, simply being. Stay in the moment!

I’ve spent a good deal of time trying to analyze: is the existential crisis, when I’m indulging it, the cause of my apathy, angst, frustration, etc, or is it really a fabricated excuse for my bad feelings dreamed up after they’ve settled in?

Here’s something marvelous: when I’m in a good mood, the words “existential crisis” sound like the punchline to a joke. I must be kidding!, an existential crisis? Why, how? The world feels fine and I feel fine and there are fun and interesting things to do; certainly, what is the point of existentialism in the face of, well, fun? Why get my head stuck up my philosophical ass when there are books to read and foods to eat and games to play?

That is how I think when I am feeling good. Notice, the crisis has not been solved, it has simply become irrelevant in the face of a mood that doesn’t require it.

So I’m beginning to believe that my existential crisis is not the cause of my angst, but an excuse for it. It’s the ultimate answerless problem, the ultimate justification for frustration. But it’s never why I’m frustrated in the first place: the cause of my bad mood is usually far more mundane, lack of exercise or sleep or social contact.

When I’m unhappy I’m supremely interested in the existential nature of life, the universe, and everything, and derive a certain sick sort of pleasure in believing that this is a righteous suffering. When I’m happy, the entire equation looks like worthless masturbation. Food for thought.

All meaning is defined in terms of other things, which themselves are only meaningful in relation to other things, etc etc etc, rather like how you can only define a word using other words. Strip away the recursion and you find that existence is a state utterly devoid of inherent meaning, and potentially purpose.

Once you realize this, it activates a homunculus inside your head that vetoes all attempts to make an order from disorder, sense from nonsense. All purposes in life get subconsciously dissected to reveal their empty cores. Meaninglessness, ephemerality, and universal indifference towards your condition – how to live with these constants? How to reconcile that anything but those constants is, well, inconstant?

No progress. None.

I keep repeating this. I sometimes even believe it. Things may get worse, but they will get better.

But no resolution, yet. I am making very little progress on this goal.

Failing this miserably tonight. Sigh.

It would be nice if I could say that there was hope. But when you take into account:

the extraordinary opportunities I have squandered…
the remarkable good fortune I have enjoyed only to produce nothing of meaning…
my current state of pathetic self-pity…
the very fact that there is a chance I might actually post this…

I make me sick.