What is there left to talk about?

My nephew came from Kuala Terengganu to get the sores on his feet taken care of and finally it is decided that he will go the specialists at Lam Wa Ee Hospital here. His wounds have become 'Aggressive" as the doctor put it when he first saw them.Dr. Khaw said expressed it Bahasa Malaysia, which was even more dramatic to those present in the room. He said " Dia sudah bertidak ganas!" Yes the wound on my nephew's foot has a hole about the size of a small platter and mean gangrenous looking. He has had it for the past fifteen years now and the past month or so it decided to become seriously bad.  Somewhere in my past blog I had a story on this about a month ago.These last few days I am suppose to take him to the hospital for the daily cleanup of his wounds but this morning as I was all set to do so i found out that he had left with my cousin  brother not two minutes past. It ticked me off for some odd reason most of which is the fact that it points out that I am unreliable or worse yet not willing to help, But my elder sister does not sees things this way and it puts me in a bind.
My niece and her children living in Balik Pulau has be diagnose with hand, foot and mouth decease and are under quarantine  and so my one retreat when shit hits the fence is out of bounds for now. I am stuck living on the busiest corner of Georgetown where the traffic is non stop and accidents is a common thing. Forget the noises and the pollution that is negligible compared to the aggravation of the heat that keeps you from sleeping at night.
My daughter came home from college yesterday, not the best of time for me even though it is good to have her home but I am so broke that it just is not right. I found out that after collecting the payments for the two pieces of art work I sold at my solo exhibition at Alpha Utara Gallery to the tune of 2500RM I still owe the Gallery about RM200 for expenses incurred. Such Is! I am behind at least four payments now in my car installments and my rent is not paid as yet for this month. Way to Go, Bahari!!
I am not a happy camper most definitely and I could feel it in my chest, that lump that sits there comfortably numb. The old anger demon sits in the corner scowling waiting to let out its long held back rage at life itself; this is the battle of the inner soul the 'Greater War' that The Prophet warned the Muslims about after they had won the Badr battle. The battle has been raging inside of me for as long as I can remember and sometimes it got to be so unbearable that i sympathize with my father and my brother and nephews who succumbed to being addicts. Often times I have this sensation of drowning and desperately
clutching for the reeds to pull myself to the surface but just as I catch my breath the reed breaks and down I go again. It is not a nice feeling the least to say.   But what to do? Life is a bitch, has always been and will always be but the show must go on and for those who can sit and take it without a whimper my salutations to them but i am who I am and I refuse to give in to causes and effects or divine interventions for those have done me little good all these years. I gave up on my well to do elder brothers and they me off course in this matter too i am to blame, my bad. My eldest son, well I have been asking him for more than enough to my utter shame, yes I have become the 'elegant beggar' that i used to joke about in the past, so careful what you call yourself! Yes"I have squandered my resistance for a pocket full of marbles, such are promises." Being an artist is really not what it cops out to be after all. I should have remained a Meat Cutter in Green Bay, Wisconsin, or a Yard Dog at H&H Ship Services in San Francisco or a Health and safety Manager at Patronas or the Ferry Terminal Supervisor at Jerejak Resort and SPA in Penang; but in believing myself as an artist has really torn my heart to pieces. This was how my father must have felt till his death...a broken man.

And the wise man said...

"To live peacefully one has to examine disorder. Why do we human beings, who are supposed to be extraordinarily evolved, extraordinarily capable in certain directions, why do we live with and tolerate such disorder in our daily lives? If one can discover the root of this disorder, its cause and observe it carefully, then in the very observation of that which is the cause is the awakening of intelligence. Observation of disorder, not the striving to bring about order. A confused disorderly mind, a state of mind which is contradictory, yet striving to bring about order, will still be disorder. One is confused, uncertain, going from one thing to another, burdened with many problems: from such a way of living, one wants order. Then what appears to be order is born out of one's confusion and therefore it is still confused.
When this is clear, what then is the cause of disorder? It has many causes: the desire to fulfill, the anxiety of not fulfilling, the contradictory life one lives, saying one thing, doing something totally different, trying to suppress one thing and to achieve something else. These are all contradictions in oneself. One can find many causes, the pursuit of causes is endless. Whereas one could ask oneself and find out if there is one root cause. Obviously there must be. The root cause is the-'self' the `me', the `ego', the personality put together by thought, by memory, by various experiences, by certain words, certain qualities which produce the feeling of separateness and isolation; that is the root cause of disorder. However much the self tries not to be the self it is still the effort of the self."
                                                  J.Krishnamurti