Memoirs Of The Lost Doppel-Ganger- An Elaborate Delve Into One’s Self-Meddling Consciousness With A Dash Of Dadaism

I wrote this this month, actually. Although, it initially served as a free-associating outlet for pain, it eventually flowed in my mind as something else. It's a moment of serendipity how the thematic implication of a work in progress evolves into something much more creative and senseful. This is about one man's struggle within himself. I tend to be very existentialistic at times. The protagonist and the antagonist are the same person, but interestingly enough, there is still conflict within the self that creates two. I have always been fascinated with the divisional paramaters of the self, soul, or mind (However you see it) since the Freudian theories of the Id and Ego. Similarly, "Unconscious Saturnalia" is almost the same as this writing. As a fan of the human mind being finitely powerful, these are the musings that stem forth.

There is the Dichotomy.

That is to say- Me. The confusion grows and strips me in half, spawning the mongrel that I am. There is the rational being that screams logic and represents white. Then there is the beat and bruised schlemiel that thwarts my security and tells me, "All are out to get you- even those you trust." He represents black and discord.

And, although he is my nemesis, we dwell together.

The half I entrusted my love to considers me nothing more than a pile of dung. In my efforts, I have capitulated over and over again with it, to no avail. "How can my shadow grow stronger and stronger evermore over my own demise?" I ask him.

Could that be the control I handed over to it, as the priest once spoke above the alter on a Sunday afternoon? He stated that no one or nothing has control over you that has been given unto them by you. I often ponder on the easy nights if that be it the case. Nonetheless, the case is....part of me is torn and battered in a raging sea on a splintered boat, while the other dines with the elite. And the one thing I gave my heart to still says, it is by my own hand. Which hand was that again? I seem to forget.

I love it as the wind grows; as the sun comes up; as sure as the Earth spins. But, does this mask love as that? My bruised heart says "no." Am I selfish?

Am I sniveling? These are the questions that torment me day by day.

I have lost all rational sense whilst in this compounded relationship. I have lost our own footing. Yet, I'm not strong enough to step out of the suit.

WHAT KEEPS ME HERE?

I hurt daily, but I hide it. I smile, but falsely. I have cracked under pressure. I have cried. I have wallowed. No one turns. No one sees. And the one that does, utters the words, "It's YOUR fault."

Who am I? Who is this person? Why was I placed with him in my life through what many will consider and a divine construct?

This bugbear- the action of Karma. It must be. I have wronged many, and now, it is my ride into damnation to live in duality like this.

I've stepped out of this global cage- the one that provides air, light, and life, and into a third dimension. I am, as an observer watching fish through the glass of an aquarium, watching and seeing my limp body kicked and thrown across some dusty street of indifferent disparity by my evil twin.

How did I get here? What deal went bad? Why do I have no choice at auto-atonement? Why am I being crucified?

I have lost sight of the paradigm of Jesus; I laid down the rules of practice. Turn the cheek, he said. Yet, I have done this very thing day after day and sustained nothing but bruises throughout our ethos.

The one I gave my half to has no respect for me and calls me 'selfish.’ I've always put us first. I've always considered his thoughts above mine.

He is the product of what our world has become- Selfishness.

And why can't I leave him? Why have I given him that control over me?

The weakness I ponder over and still falter deeper yet over and over again as I stare at the body in the mirror before me. Ethos Euthanasia.