Destination Anhedonia

I cannot recall the precise moment of my arrival at Anhedonia memories blindsided by a phantasmagoric comorbid collage of cant precipitated by some newspaper reportage or holocaust story some creepy instance that breached the precipice between simple sorrow and permanent melancholia some fatal blow that cinched the deal some horrid event that could not heal some dejected disappointment that could not be resolved some moment of unguarded clarity when integrity dissolved nevertheless I have arrived at this mangled juncture élan a mania not even Edison's medicine can extirpate I was quite lighthearted before the inferno before my brain broke ennui now a turgid companion feeding on gaiety, never sated, seeking famine esurient unrelenting usurper of happiness go away, leave me alone, relish some other soul's madness gone is any exuberance, glee or mirth miseries are mine, many the days since birth better I was carried from the womb straight to the grave a fatuous existence, clamoring and grasping in vain it's as if I was born into a well but these waters they burn the bludgeoning alcohol a liquid hell Oh florid loquacity, you are an impostor your verse is an adversary a foray of jagged rhythm justifying a storm a sordid verbosity assuring no norm a plaintive scratching guild of recriminative collaboration some alliance of fulminating disquietude the cost for the fare on the adventure to: the stunning moment you too will visit Anhedonia

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Written by

sobroquet

70 / M / American

For You?

Written by

sobroquet

70 / M / American

Published: Feb 15, 2014
Time: 3m

Notes: anhedonia |ˌanhēˈdōnēə, -hi-|
nounPsychiatry
inability to feel pleasure.
DERIVATIVES
anhedonic |-ˈdänik| adjective
ORIGIN late 19th cent.: from French anhédonie, from Greek an- ‘without’ + hēdonē ‘pleasure.’

*The Sire Of Sorrow (Job's Sad Song
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"You're obliged to pretend respect for people and institutions you think absurd. You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral and social conventions you despise, condemns, and know lack of all foundation. It is that permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires and all the dead formalities and vain pretenses of your civilization which makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced. In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life and all feeling of personality, because at every moment they suppress and restrain and check the free play of your powers. That's the poisoned and mortal wound of the civilized world." Octave Mirbeau

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