BLACK AND GRAY

      Many of us spend our whole lives trying to be right. Trying to find the truth. Others spend their whole lives trying to forget. Trying to escape the fact that their wrong. The former may be the result of the latter. Read me?

I’m not sure where I am on this spectrum of seeking the truth and trying to be right, or righteous. Can one seek the truth, and at the same time attempt to escape what one already knows to be true?  I would say that it is highly unlikely, except for the realization that life is multi-dimensional, multi-layered and anything but ‘black and white.’ It’s a popular belief amongst the religious, the religious of all religions, that the truth is black and white; but this seems too easy. Can the truth be so simple? The truth that decides all matters big and small, past and present? Ever-present truth? The real truth and nothing but the truth so help me…God? The truth? The concept of truth seems so simple, after all ‘TRUTH’ is such a simple word. The definitions of truth that the world offers are as brief and shallow as its definition of love. 

Life right now is this terrible unbearably sharp snare rhythm. With this angry screaming lyricist shouting about injustice, inequality, deception, wickedness, trickery, misery, loneliness, self-doubt, self-pity, self-destruction, self, depression, confusion….

The Grayness. That’s where I live right now, in grayness. That place where black and white become one. The place where nothing is totally pure and true (except perception of God) and nothing is totally wicked and wrong (except perception of Evil). Everything simply is the way that it is. Why try to discern right and wrong? It is a draining and endless task, likely to leave one more wrapped in grayness then when started. The brink of insanity. But, unless you’ve been insane how would you know?

I help but just be totally self-absorbed right now, I got the blues. 

I got the blues, the grays. Confused the ways--of man

Swear to God, man--I just cannot fucking understand. 

Stuck and I don’t want you to lend a hand. 

Right now, there is no such thing as solid land.

Please believe me. Let me sink. 

Just please leave me be. Let me think, 

and just be.  

Whatever the hell it is.
Just let me be. 

         Isn’t everything just a reflection of something else anyway? Oh yes--yes, and then we say, ‘This is real.’ ‘He’s keeping it real.’ This place or belief or fad is real. But really, is it real?

Words are dead, so who gives a fuck if everyone is well read. Words are gray, their meaning changes between tongue and ear. You hear not what’s being said, only what’s being translated by the definitions in your head. I could say, “I Love You.” The word 'Love' to me means I care for you, your special, you are accepted. Love to me is something that is unconditional and powerful. Love, to me, means a lot. But, when I say the word “Love,” although it means all those things to me, all you hear is the word, “Love.” 


Love is a word that is defined by all those things you have experienced in your life. The word itself reminds you of things. Words are sub-consciously associated with previous experiences. So my “I love you,” may mean, “I will fuck you over and leave you in a ditch.”  

Whatever, you get the point. Our words are meaningless, unless our actions are clear. Our actions are what define our words. Our actions are what can really be translated clearly without misunderstandings. Through our actions we are able to really let people know what we mean, when we say…'I love you'. Or when we say 'This is the Truth.' Whatever. The blues. The Grays.

January 23, 2002