Beyond the mirrors we know...

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Edna St Vincent Millay
Buck in the Snow (1928) "Dirge Without Music"

WHY did you have to press that button then? Sad, mad, bad person! Go away, I'm in hiding! Can'st thee not Rest In Peace by thineself?

And I'm not asking for your opinion,
I'm not asking for a miracle
And I'm not asking you to remember me,
Not asking for the ghost to call.

Gary Numan
Sacrifice album (1994) "Scar"

Oh, I'm sorry, did'st not mean to speak so uncouth; I'm not used to visitors, in the here and now of this place. Come on in and rest weary bones: 'tis nearly dawn! Shut the doorway, let me roll the stone across to make it fast. Don't want the dark leaking out, and besides, there are unpleasant noisy creatures that roam around here by day. The neighbourhood is not what it used to be.

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers,
for some thereby have harboured angels, unawares.


Don't fret so – it's cool to be mad. I'm mad, you're mad, the whole world is mad. But we poets are relatively sane. Because we accept our madness. The others frighten me though. The ones that claim sanity. For they have not yet realised that they are mad. They do bad things, yet feel a need to justify themselves. They do bad things to us, but then claim it was for our own good. That makes me shiver. If I do something bad, I just think badly of myself. If I do something bad to another creature, I say it was for my own good. An entity has a desire to survive, you know. And survival cares nothing about good or evil. You know this already though; this was always our sorrow.

I am never better than when I am mad.
Then methinks I am a brave fellow; then I do wonders.
But reason abuseth me, and there's the torment, there's the hell.

Thomas Kyd ~ 1592

Don't get me wrong though, nor think of me as a soft touch. If needs be, I too can be a monomaniac – just like the chillingly sane. I have been so, in times past. Perhaps I will be again. But only if necessary, and for something I could sincerely believe in. Sincerity becomes increasingly more difficult to find though, in the face of the scepticism of many lost years.

I don't like going sane though. Don't like the feeling it leaves me with; cold and hard, empty.... And worthless. No, that is too heavy a price. Instead, I shall choose to retreat into gentle whimsy.

As we have dreamt
So shall we love.
As we have loved
So shall we live.

Jenni ~ 1997

You are never alone with schizophrenia. [insert cheezy cackle] Yeah, well, 'tis an old jest.... yet in such, many a true word so spoke. The trick is simply to recognise ones illusions, the various -enias and -isms within. For only then can one truly appreciate the grand joke.

Life is a jest, and all things show it;
I thought so once, but now I know it.
(My own Epitaph.)

Alexander Pope ~ 1688-1744

In the night, I wish to believe in Sunshine. When the day is here, I long for Night. I'll share a dream through a magic mirror – if you'll share yours.

So come with me now...

Pwl ~ October 1997 ©

I'm a ghost in the dark, and I'm yours. ~ Gary Numan 1994