Anxiety And Despair Follow Upon Contact With Nothingness Of Self

Empty Self Continued
Future Time

"So what is it? What makes a person self-destruct?" responded MV.

"Obviously, there is more than one answer,” I replied, “but where identity is concerned there is one answer only. Let me put it this way: If you get too close to a black
hole, you get sucked in and crushed; likewise, in the here and now, if
you get too close to the `nothingness of self,' hopelessness and
despair are never far behind. The sad part is that the sensitive and
creative among us are drawn to this `center' in order to mine its
energy and inspiration. Growing up in the `60's counter culture, I
found self-destructive behavior everywhere. It was especially
concentrated in the artist community. Song lyrics, especially the song
lyrics of that period, I believe, testify to the tensions, emptiness,
and desperation that can result from too much self-searching. The
artists who penned these lyrics survived, but not everyone does.


Jefferson Airplane: The House At Pooneil Corners

You and me,
we keep walkin around
and we see,
all the bullshit around us.
You try to keep your mind on what's
goin down.
Can't help but see the
rhinoceros around us.
Then you wonder what we can be
and you do what you can
to get balled
and high.

Simon and Garfunkel: Sounds Of Silence

And in the naked light I saw
10,000 people maybe more,
people talking without speaking,
people hearing without listening,
people writing songs that voices never share.
No one dared
disturb the sound of silence.


Bob Dylan: Mr. Tambourine Man

Take me disappear-in
down the smoke rings of my mind,
through the foggy ruins of time,
down past the frightened leaves
and the lifeless frozen trees,
way down to the windy beach,
far from the twisted reach
of crazy sorrow.


Jim Morrison: Riders On The Storm

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
into this house were born
into this world were thrown
like a dog without a bone
an actor out alone.


Paul Stookey: No Other Name

Some girls will die for money,
some will die as they're born,
some will swear they died for love,
some die every morn.
I'll die alone,
away form my home,
nobody knows where I came.
The stone at my head will say I am dead.
It knows me by no other name.


Janis Ian: Lonely One

There been times,
moments when I
didn't really feel like crying.
There been times,
I knew that I would do better
by sighing,
dying.
Sometimes I think it's easy to fall,
and then I remember words: Kid you gotta be tall.
My time, your time,
time of the mind.
You can’t have it
cause I don't want it.
If you want it,
you can't have it. I can't take it,
I'm falling,
I'm calling,
please,
please, please,
help me.
Please, help me.



Peter Yarrow: The Great Mandella

Tell the jailor
not to bother
with his meal
of bread and water today.
He is fasting, till the killing's over.
He's a martyr;
he thinks he's a profit,
but he's a coward,
he's just playing a game.
He can't do it; he can't change it,
its been goin on for 10,000 years.
Take your place on the
Great Mandella,
as it moves through your brief moment of time.
Win or loose now,
you must choose now,
and if you loose you're only
loosing your life.

"I don't get it! Angry, sad, and sadder, that's all I see in those
lyrics," MV responded.

"I'm not surprised. You never did pick up on nuance very well," I
replied. "Just take my word for it. It's there—a specific emotional
center— the one that inspires lyrics like the above."