Unsayable

[Una]

It seems like it has been a long time. A long time since I first came across this forum and a long time since I wrote my first post.

I have not written or interacted much since. In the beginning, I thought I might. But I see that I have not.

Sitting here in a semi-darkness of an autumn evening, I wonder why that is.

I value free and frank insightfulness of this forum. It had opened my eyes to the true extent and diversity of human sufferings. The never-ending pain. Despite which, there is a creativity, there is a compassion, there is a humour, there is a serious, knowledgeable thought, there is a sarcasm and there is a true grit. Many posts had made me smile, many had prompted me to search further afield and learn things I wish I could have learned much earlier. Above all – the true price of self-preserving delusions. Still, my thoughts fail to translate into written words.

It must be my English, I thought. I am cautions of it. Experience had thought me that it comes across a little bit 'stiff'. Most likely because I have learned it in my early thirties and mostly from books. As a result, it lacks all those familiar phrases, colloquialisms, known-jokes, and word-plays, that are ordinarily absorbed growing-up. It is what gives language its 'dailiness'. But even as I wrote those words – I know that is not it.

It isn't the lack of words, but rather oversupply of them, that renders one mute. I once read that 'it is easy to talk, until you have something to say'.

Like standing on the banks of a deep, powerful river rushing ever faster to its end. The river of human sorrows, of grief, and of loss. Of shame and guilt and remorse. Of old age and illness. Of grief and solitude.

What words for that? Which pebble to throw?

That says – I too trudge the river's muddy banks. Shivering inside my splendid rags. Into the cold mists of pre-downs. And no place to turn to. Where match is struck under dry kindling and some old newspaper and curtains parted to let in a big, smoky sky. Where they call you by your full name and you are glad for it while pretending otherwise. Especially while pretending otherwise.

But what use, I ask myself, is this to anyone?

For I can see that my pain is mine in name only. As is everyone's.

Unless one looks closer. Much closer. Lean in a little bit. Can you see it? Those tiny specks of light between the words. It is where unsayable dwells. Look there. Into tiny crevices left silent. Left empty. To reach through. It is like magic. Only the right touch and in the right time would do. And there is hardly ever enough time … but if you do manage it – the magic and the mystery are all yours.



And now … the lights are shifting, and night owl is calling.

I thank you for keeping me a company.


P.S. If you do look – look for unsayable.

 

[pthnrdnojvsc]

It seems like it has been a long time. A long time since I first came across this forum and a long time since I wrote my first post.

I have not written or interacted much since. In the beginning, I thought I might. But I see that I have not.

Sitting here in a semi-darkness of an autumn evening, I wonder why that is.

I value free and frank insightfulness of this forum. It had opened my eyes to the true extent and diversity of human sufferings. The never-ending pain. Despite which, there is a creativity, there is a compassion, there is a humour, there is a serious, knowledgeable thought, there is a sarcasm and there is a true grit. Many posts had made me smile, many had prompted me to search further afield and learn things I wish I could have learned much earlier. Above all – the true price of self-preserving delusions. Still, my thoughts fail to translate into written words.

It must be my English, I thought. I am cautions of it. Experience had thought me that it comes across a little bit 'stiff'. Most likely because I have learned it in my early thirties and mostly from books. As a result, it lacks all those familiar phrases, colloquialisms, known-jokes, and word-plays, that are ordinarily absorbed growing-up. It is what gives language its 'dailiness'. But even as I wrote those words – I know that is not it.

It isn't the lack of words, but rather oversupply of them, that renders one mute. I once read that 'it is easy to talk, until you have something to say'.

Like standing on the banks of a deep, powerful river rushing ever faster to its end. The river of human sorrows, of grief, and of loss. Of shame and guilt and remorse. Of old age and illness. Of grief and solitude.

What words for that? Which pebble to throw?

That says – I too trudge the river's muddy banks. Shivering inside my splendid rags. Into the cold mists of pre-downs. And no place to turn to. Where match is struck under dry kindling and some old newspaper and curtains parted to let in a big, smoky sky. Where they call you by your full name and you are glad for it while pretending otherwise. Especially while pretending otherwise.

But what use, I ask myself, is this to anyone?

For I can see that my pain is mine in name only. As is everyone's.

Unless one looks closer. Much closer. Lean in a little bit. Can you see it? Those tiny specks of light between the words. It is where unsayable dwells. Look there. Into tiny crevices left silent. Left empty. To reach through. It is like magic. Only the right touch and in the right time would do. And there is hardly ever enough time … but if you do manage it – the magic and the mystery are all yours.



And now … the lights are shifting, and night owl is calling.

I thank you for keeping me a company.


P.S. If you do look – look for unsayable.

View attachment 32296

@Una Your writing is among the most poetic,insightful and enjoyable I've read. I sure hope you write more posts here for us to read.

I have also learned a lot from this forum.

I've never seen a website like this one we are on SS ever. This website is the only place that actually helped me in my life. imo i don't think there will ever be a website like this again ever.

I mean i learned not only about ctb methods and philosophy but also about other areas of real reality and real life. All other places are masquerading people talking about superficial and meaningless ridiculous things.

And also the people are much more understanding, helpful, knowledgeable,intelligent than irl etc.

I can't thank the creators @Marquis and maintainers of this website SS enough.

 

[Deleted member 1465]

It seems like it has been a long time. A long time since I first came across this forum and a long time since I wrote my first post.

I have not written or interacted much since. In the beginning, I thought I might. But I see that I have not.

Sitting here in a semi-darkness of an autumn evening, I wonder why that is.

I value free and frank insightfulness of this forum. It had opened my eyes to the true extent and diversity of human sufferings. The never-ending pain. Despite which, there is a creativity, there is a compassion, there is a humour, there is a serious, knowledgeable thought, there is a sarcasm and there is a true grit. Many posts had made me smile, many had prompted me to search further afield and learn things I wish I could have learned much earlier. Above all – the true price of self-preserving delusions. Still, my thoughts fail to translate into written words.

It must be my English, I thought. I am cautions of it. Experience had thought me that it comes across a little bit 'stiff'. Most likely because I have learned it in my early thirties and mostly from books. As a result, it lacks all those familiar phrases, colloquialisms, known-jokes, and word-plays, that are ordinarily absorbed growing-up. It is what gives language its 'dailiness'. But even as I wrote those words – I know that is not it.

It isn't the lack of words, but rather oversupply of them, that renders one mute. I once read that 'it is easy to talk, until you have something to say'.

Like standing on the banks of a deep, powerful river rushing ever faster to its end. The river of human sorrows, of grief, and of loss. Of shame and guilt and remorse. Of old age and illness. Of grief and solitude.

What words for that? Which pebble to throw?

That says – I too trudge the river's muddy banks. Shivering inside my splendid rags. Into the cold mists of pre-downs. And no place to turn to. Where match is struck under dry kindling and some old newspaper and curtains parted to let in a big, smoky sky. Where they call you by your full name and you are glad for it while pretending otherwise. Especially while pretending otherwise.

But what use, I ask myself, is this to anyone?

For I can see that my pain is mine in name only. As is everyone's.

Unless one looks closer. Much closer. Lean in a little bit. Can you see it? Those tiny specks of light between the words. It is where unsayable dwells. Look there. Into tiny crevices left silent. Left empty. To reach through. It is like magic. Only the right touch and in the right time would do. And there is hardly ever enough time … but if you do manage it – the magic and the mystery are all yours.



And now … the lights are shifting, and night owl is calling.

I thank you for keeping me a company.


P.S. If you do look – look for unsayable.

View attachment 32296

Sometimes I have difficulty reading what's written on the page for fear of what's written between the lines. Often I have difficulty writing for fear of the same.

Was that a goodbye thread?

I hope not, I hope you are okay. Words say so little but they are the best we have.

 

[GoodPersonEffed]

@Una Your writing is among the most poetic,insightful and enjoyable I've read.

Agreed.

 

[Una]

@Una Your writing is among the most poetic,insightful and enjoyable I've read. I sure hope you write more posts here for us to read.

I have also learned a lot from this forum.

I've never seen a website like this one we are on SS ever. This website is the only place that actually helped me in my life. imo i don't think there will ever be a website like this again ever.

I mean i learned not only about ctb methods and philosophy but also about other areas of real reality and real life. All other places are masquerading people talking about superficial and meaningless ridiculous things.

And also the people are much more understanding, helpful, knowledgeable,intelligent than irl etc.

I can't thank the creators @Marquis and maintainers of this website SS enough.

Hi @peacefullpainless,

Thank you very much for your kind and generous words ... I do not think I have ever received such praise. Thank you.

I have never seen a website like SS either. In actual fact, I thought that it cannot be real the very first time I came across it! Reading a handful of posts soon convinced me that it is indeed real and not generated by an AI. The pain was undoubtedly human.

I agree with you wholeheartedly regarding the site's helpfulness. When I first joined, I made a small gesture of tangible support in a way of appreciation.

Many people generously share what they have learned through years of struggle. In doing so, they make 'otherness', in all its shades, a little bit more bearable. For us all.

Thank you again for reading and for commenting.

 

[Una]

Sometimes I have difficulty reading what's written on the page for fear of what's written between the lines. Often I have difficulty writing for fear of the same.

Was that a goodbye thread?

I hope not, I hope you are okay. Words say so little but they are the best we have.

Greetings to you @Underscore,

I am indeed glad to 'see' you ... whilst it seems that the appearance have changed somewhat, the recognisable sharpness of thought remains -:)! I hope you do not mind this semi-familiar tone. I just remember reading your posts for quite some time. Appreciating the eloquence, knowledge, humanity.

Writing is a peculiar business isn't it. For it hides just as much as it reveals.

What you wrote touched me. Thank you. It was not a goodbye thread. At least not intended as one. Then again ... I think we both know that a tiny bit of a 'goodbye' is tucked away within each word we write.

Thank you for reading and for commenting.

Agreed.

Dear @GoodPersonEffed,

I am grateful you have stopped by. Thank you.

I have read many of your posts and admire your knowledge and depth of understating of human behavior, including the consequences of traumatic experiences. I also like how you express your thoughts.

Thank you for reading and commenting.

 

[Deleted member 1465]

Writing is a peculiar business isn't it. For it hides just as much as it reveals.

Oh yes, so it does. Hiding and revealing aren't just flip sides of the same coin. They are the same thing. Much in this absurd universe that is considered mutually exclusive is, in my view, necessarily paradoxical. That's precisely why we are all so confused.

What you wrote touched me. Thank you. It was not a goodbye thread. At least not intended as one. Then again ... I think we both know that a tiny bit of a 'goodbye' is tucked away within each word we write.

A tiny bit of goodbye tucked away. Indeed. I'm glad that goodbye isn't coming out into the open for you yet though. Your writing is inspiring to me and spot on.