The Veterinarian – (10) Three Mothers, the Crowd of Me, Me, Me and the Killing of Souls

For the One or the Trinity: Certainly Neither and Both

Three mothers, all of them dead, live on in his mind, and he has the utmost hope, that they will also do so in his writing. He wonders whether each was mostly a victim or mostly a monster. He understands that this wondering cannot be oversimplified because of the true nature of existence. He wonders about his own damn ego and his own damn motives. Is he just shifting blame and focus onto others to hide his own demons, his own weaknesses and all of the crimes that he knows he himself has committed against creation? Is he really so damn righteous himself, to write about the sins and neurotic catastrophes of others? Who is to say that he isn’t just a paranoid, neurotic fuck himself, perhaps even more delusional than any of the three mothers or anyone else he has labeled as ignorant? Maybe, he just has a God complex and it is all just a show, his own towering wall, only constructed better than most other walls, and fortified more securely than most other fortresses, built to protect an insanely terrified, insecure, little brat, who hides inside, from falling apart and disintegrating into the universe. Maybe, it is supremely complicated and perhaps, it is so….so, very simple; and oddly enough, what he believes to be the most accurate assessment of the matter is that it is both; that they are really the same… is all just the same. Everything is woven together in the fabric of existence and everything is also woven apart. This is the nature of our being and the being of our existence. In a succinct form, he might put it this way; you should dedicate yourself to learn all of the answers, see all of the graces, and be able to define what is light and what is dark; you should hone your awareness to feel the supernova of everything that that awareness makes apparent, and yet, after you do all of these things, you must accept that there is an exception to every rule, that grey also exists between light and dark, that not everything has an answer, and that you have to let go of it all; you simply must accept the ever-present paradox and the insanity and the blissful harmony and the absolute madness and the unity and the separation and how all of it, every single microcosmic or macrocosmic bit, swirls endlessly and continuously, around, about and with one another.

To be continued…


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