On Abstract V.

The lion roars at the enraging desert,
Reddens the sand with his red-colored noise,
Defies red emptiness to evolve his match,

Master by foot and jaws and by the mane,
Most supple challenger. The elephant
Breaches the darkness of Ceylon with blares,

The glitter-goes on surfaces of tanks,
Shattering velvetest far-away. The bear,
The ponderous cinnamon, snarls in his mountain

At summer thunder and sleeps through winter snow.
But you, ephebe, look from your attic window,
Your mansard with a rented piano. You lie

In silence upon your bed. You clutch the corner
Of the pillow in your hand. You writhe and press
A bitter utterance from your writhing, dumb,

Yet voluble dumb violence. You look
Across the roofs as sigil and as ward
And in your centre mark them and are cowed . . .

These are the heroic children whom time breeds
Against the first idea – to lash the lion,
Caparison elephants, teach bears to juggle.

I want to do this. I want to be a lion, to roar, to face the world without fear, trembling, or apprehension. I am the one who curls up in the corner of my bed, whimpering, because the world is just too much for me to handle. I'm the one whose blog is nothing but poems, because they say the words I can't. I don't want to be the one dancing around with words that don't make any sense - what would the point of that be?

At the same time, though, I know I have to say something. I've finished Solaris; it was actually quite difficult to put down. As I read, I found myself a part of the story, and I went on a journey through my mind as I watched Kris' mental struggles. It left me with a confession to make. I would like my end to be something like that of Rheya's.

I love the idea of oblivion. I would like nothing more than to simply not exist anymore; the idea of heaven scares me almost as much as hell does, particularly in light of the conversations that we've had in this class about eternal perfection. I don't think that I could do anything forever. Life's brevity is one of its greatest appeals to me, and yet...

I'm scared of being wrong. I'm trying to empty my mind, to get rid of everything that I think I know, but...what if there really is a god? There's that one last thread that I can't seem to cut. I don't quite understand why. I'll continue to work on it...and I'll let you know if anything changes.