frustrations, frustrations, frustrations.....

"This above all: to thine own self be true". - Hamlet (Act I, Scene III).

How? It is so hard to see what I should do, what path I should take - I am stuck in a rut and as usual, I am too short to see out of it.

I really dont know what to write in this blog. I am so incredibly frustrated and disappointed in my own life, in my own abilities, in myself.... what can I say??? At the end of the day, when all's send and done - what is there to say?
Nothing.
A bit fat NOTHING.

I could cry I am so frustrated.... except I am too angry to cry. I want to rage at the world. At the injustice. The hopelessness. I feel it when I look around me at the world, not just my life but at the lives of others. My brothers and sisters; in Iraq, Bosnia, Chechenya, Afghanistan, Guantanamo Bay, Somalia, Indonesia, and on and on.... My lifes suffering is nothing compared to theirs.

Yet still I suffer. I am so frustrated. SO so sooooooooooooooooooo frustrated.

Everything I try ends in nothing. It all just..... becomes dust.

I am sick of trying. And of failing. And failing. And failing.

Of being a disappointment. A burden on my sister, on my father. I want to take care of them and my own inability to do so kills me.

I watched a news report where a man was pleading with the reporter on TV - saying "I will let anyone adopt my son, to take him away from me, my family, everything he knows - just please please please someone help him. He is suffering everyday. Just take him and I will be glad to know he is to know he is not in pain."
Such anguish was in that fathers face. I felt ashamed to look at him.... such pain, such, such... is there a word for such a feeling of a parent who watched his/her child wither away infront of them?
I felt ashamed to look at him -this man, I do not know where he is from, who he is, what he believes in. I do know he is a parent and I couldnt help him.

On the Day of Judgment.... no, I dont even have to look that far ahead - in this life, how will I forget that mans anguish? His eyes....?

I also watched a documentary on BBC2 today on Al-Qaeda and its recruitment in Iraq of young men. They showed these boys that had been picked up by the US Army in Iraq... I dont know why they were picked up, I dont know who they were.... their faces were covered up and their hands tied tightly and this army dude was dragging this man up by his head to his feet. "get up!" he kept shouting as if this poor arab boy understood English. And then the camera moved to this other boy, a skinny boy - he looked about 16-, his hands were tied behind his back and his head was covered. The camera zoomed in on his hands and they were shaking, not trembling, shaking, and when the camera zoomed out you could see this boys shoulders shaking.

He was crying. He was crying!!!

An image of him is also in my head and I cant get it out.

It made me so mad to see these boys. 2 prisoners and the 3rd.... this US army dude. Some guy who has been trained to become what is, as far as I can see, a recepticle for the worst traits in humans. Vengence, revenge, killing, hate, apathy.... that is why he could not see why the boy in his hands, that he was pushing around was his own brother.

All these frustrations of what I see, spill into me. Spill into the frustrations of my own life.

Frustrations, frustrations, frustrations and yep, more frustration.

Life is, in the words of Shakespeare "A slippery and subtle knave "(Othello).

Or as I keep repeating in my head, incessantly, over and over and over - "Its a test, its a test, its a test, its a test, itsatestitsatestitsatestitsatestitsateastitsaTEST!"