Apr 13, 2004 20:24
War in essence steals emotions, vitality, resources, identity; until you are left with a victory upon which to rebuild yourself or a skeleton you cannot recognise.
Traditionally, it is fought between enemies, forcibly ignorant of one another. In this ignorance they find strength and drive. I am fighting two halves of self and thus have no such advantages. I am aware of my persona. My purpose and religion, my values and yearnings are known, are familiar. Therefore this battle is in a stalemate. My outside - conditioned by society, influenced by the consciousness of others; verses my inside - moving without movement, thinking without thought, free.
The war is continuous. In its theft and in the hardening of me. It is undefinable. Idealism against pragmatism? Reality against delusions? Society against individual? It does not resemble external contests. It lacks the fire, the heat, the passion for a conclusion. Perhaps there will be no ending. Perhaps there can be no ending.
One might say I am in the business of war. Or one might say I am in the business of finding peace. It is unlikely one will notice.
Comment to be added.