I don’t know (PSYCHOPATHOLOGY ENTRY: 008)

I’m just going to probably talk about something which in the end adds up to nothing.

This week I tried a brand new take on poetry, I tried to write a haiku. There isn’t much to this minimal goal that I had but it was something to me I guess. I usually write all of my poems as simply fulfilling a moment of convoluted emotions. These convoluted emotions spill out onto a document over and over and over, this repetition of spilling out emotions into poems without proper structure tends to become boring, even though it is freeing it’s always fun to try a form of poetry that restricts you a bit so you don’t go on tangents. This minimal task also led me to a brand new world, the world of haiku, this world is really really beautiful. The fact that you can enlighten someone with just a couple of words, shows eloquent beauty… so I will share my favorite haiku as of now by Matsuo Bashō.

“The Cry of the Cicada”

The cry of the cicada

Gives us no sign

That presently it will die.

-Matsuo Bashō

Translated by William George Aston

https://poets.org/poem/cry-cicada

I don’t know, but there is beauty….boundless beauty in the words. It’s not limited to the simple horizons of a “bug,” but to anyone’s life. Some of us live our lives and seem to others as though everything is fine, we may: have great jobs, a lot of money, power, ambitions, etc… but deep down inside we may be fighting a lonely fight against ourselves, and sometimes…sometimes we just stop fighting. Now thinking about it this reminds me so much of “Richard Cory” by Edwin Arlington Robinson, a really good poem that speaks basically on this “sometimes we just stop fighting,” idea that I spoke about.

Well, enough of my take on this haiku, find your own meaning that you think is reasonable and hold onto it dearly, lol. Now, to speak on the non-fiction readings. Last weeks own was interesting in its respective sense, however, this week’s story is really something else, a look at the impact of suicide, but through an actual scope not fiction but reality. It’s amazing how this piece makes me feel like I’m reading fiction but it’s actually someone’s grueling reality.

Well I think I covered everything I wanted to talk about, hope whoever is reading this enjoyed their stay! ^___^

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