der märchenkönig

For a split second, the breath seems to still and the heart seems to take a temporary hiatus and only the eyes and the brain seem to register..  The eyes take in the portrait of an unknown man..  I guess the saying ‘to take your breath away’ seems to ring true in this moment in time..  In a way, it is kind of amusing to find yourself with the feelings bordering on what is so oddly referred to as an ‘ historic crush’..

My eyes were set upon a picture of a young man whose features can only be described as 'beautiful, stunning'..  After a brief period of time spent staring at him, I realize the photograph was taken in 1874..  Thick, slightly arched brows..  Thick, wavy hair that defies a comb but lends itself to make the man more endearing..  Eyes, that in the black and white photo, appear to be of a pale color; my mind begins to color them: a rich blue, a liquid silver, a watery green..  It has been written that some said his eyes were blue, others have said they were steel grey..  Nonetheless, they were intense, piercing and haunting; the windows to a soul that was conflicted, tortured and alone, to say the least..

Several pictures later, quite a collection is logged in my memory..  A tall, slender man in a uniform..  A man seated in the company of others, but his sheer presence seems to cast a shadow upon his companions..  A close-up picture that seems to capture not only a man in his youth, but it captures a sadness, a solitude that is still felt over 125 years later..  I soon come across a photo of a casting of bronze of his right hand and a death mask..  Even in death, he is still breathtakingly handsome..

Wilhelm of Hess (l), Prince Otto (c) and King Ludwig II (r)

He is King Ludwig II of Bavaria..  Known as the Swan King, the Fairy-Tale King and the Mad King, he was born in 1845 to Crown Prince Maximillian and Princess Marie of Prussia..  At the age of two, he became the crown prince when his grandfather, the current king at the time, abdicated the throne in favor of his son after much pressure..  After a short illness, his father dies an, at the age of eighteen, he was a king..  Although he was not fully ready to accept the responsibility placed on his shoulders, he became Bavaria’s most beloved monarch and is still to this day..  During his reign, he promoted such public figures as Richard Wagner and built the famous Neuschwanstein Castle though his desire to build romanticized, picturesque castles nearly bankrupted him and Bavaria..

 

Then, just shy of his 41^st birthday in 1886, he dies under very mysterious circumstances while out alone on a walk with his doctor..  His death was ruled an accidental drowning though some say it was a suicide, others say it was murder..  Official cause of death has been challenged for well over a century and has spawned many conspiracy theories..

A memorial cross at Lake Starnberg to mark the spot where King Ludwig's body was found.

 Whatever circumstances lead to this man’s death, it abruptly ended the life and soul of a strong, yet stirring, fragile man who loved music, the arts, architecture to near obsession, who possessed a brilliant mind and had an aura about him that many have said was ethereal, powerful and ultimately tragic..  I was not born for another 83 years, but during those years and in my lifetime thus far, he has lived up to one line he had written to his closest friend and cousin, Empress Elizabeth, “I wish to remain an eternal enigma to myself and to others.  “  Of the many wishes Ludwig II has so desired, I believe this one had been granted during his lifetime and has preserved this man into history for the ages..

It has been over 126 years since this man's death and yet there is no real proof of what happened that day which lead to his unfortunate demise..  Why is it too much to ask what happened..?  Why not reveal the proof of how he was murdered or reveal the proof if it was indeed a bonafide suicide..?  Anyone involved with a cover-up in either declaration is long dead and why not let this man's soul rest, let him and his legacy live in peace..?

and the fat lady has sung..

no one desires to be in a place or in a predicament one does not want to be in.. no one chooses to be put on a line, forced to make a choice.. i was taught that you choose where you want to be, whether by your own fault or choice.. this also relates to dilemmas.. a dilemma is not a great place to be.. i have come to a point where i must make a decision and that decision not only affects my life, but others.. it is a decision, not taken lightly and once executed, changes so many facets of my daily life..

it is sort of a domino-effect.. one domino falls, causing another to fall, another and another until all dominoes are down, the playing field is leveled.. although it is a scene of disaster, chaos and destruction, it is the most advantageous vantage point from where i stand.. there is nothing in the way to cloud or block my judgment, nothing to keep me from doing what i do best: protecting a precious one..

a friendship terminated, intersecting lives now severed and a sad, heavy heart are all part of the orders for the day.. how do i proceed..? how do i make the loss more tolerable..? when does the daily life return to a somewhat normal state..?

a state of being tolerant is what is preached to us from childhood.. you are to be tolerant of the ignorant ways of others, you are to be tolerant and 'take the higher road' when someone has wronged you, you are to be tolerant of stupidity.. we are told to be tolerant of so many intolerant things it makes me wonder how we can become a person of morals and values when you spend most of your time and life policing the morals and values of others..

i feel there is a time when being tolerant is just not acceptable.. i have to draw the line in the sand and have made a promise to not cross it because the safety and well-being of a most precious life is questioned.. it is that state of questioning that has led me to this uncomfortable place of a dilemma..

i have experienced many dilemmas in my lifetime to this point, unfortunately there are sure to be many more to come.. yet, despite the time of day, time of year or whenever it may come, and at the end of the day, the solution to a dilemma is usually one that you know is not one you are going to like, either way.. it all boils down to this: the solution is final, the curtain has closed, the proverbial fat lady has sung..

ain't that a kick in the head.. if only..

it starts with no warning or with a bit of an unusual feeling.. sort of like when something just does not feel right.. then, the little fester begins.. a twitch.. a tingle.. a tiny shock.. feelings of being heavy, feelings of dizziness.. the sparkles dance before your eyes or the fog rolls in just in certain spots.. instead of the pleasant scent of roses or jasmine, the smell of cinnamon, the smell of cloves or the smell of freshly tilled dirt invade.. the stomach tightens.. the light is intense.. darkness is like a warm bath, soothing the pain of a hard days' work away, cradling like a baby in soft linens..

once all is in full bloom, time holds the cards.. while in its grasp, its fateful clutches, mercy is a luxury.. a heartbeat feels like a bass drum at a Tool concert, a caress feels like a scorching flame across bare flesh, the desire and intense craving for loneliness eclipes that of the need for a cool drink of water on a hot day..  words, once spoken so eloquently and with ease, are unrecognizable, garbled and labored..  the eyes, once so clear and sharp, now struggle to make sense of the surroundings.. while in its throes, completely at its mercy, unable to walk away unscathed, praying for released from its clutches..

what is it i speak of..?  the divine sensation of love..?  the passionate agony of ecstacy..?  the hopeless feeling of grief..?  only if it were that simple, only if it were that easy.. the pain is all around, hopeless in its grasp, aware of what is transpiring once it begins, helpless to stop it.. it takes a physical toll, a mental toll, an emotional toll.. not only on you, but on those around you who are equally helpless to stop it..  once again, what is it i speak of..?

it is simple and not so simple.. one episodic moment in the throes of a migraine..

the enigma..

to me, it is a puzzling word all in itself.. no surprise the word itself means 'riddle'.. to quote an entry from the website, dictionary.com (my favorite dictionary/thesaurus website, by the way), the origin & (very) short history of the word enigma is as follows: "mid-15c., from L. aenigma "riddle," from Gk. ainigma, from ainissesthai "speak obscurely, speak in riddles," from ainos "fable, riddle," of unknown origin.

synonyms of this word include bewilderment, conundrum, parable.. i am sure you are wondering where i am going with this... but, in time, the enigma of which i speak, will reveal itself in due time.. in the way i think, i usually analyze my thoughts before they come out, which usually leads to most people not understanding a word i am saying or think that i should be committed to a modern-day version of bedlam..

so, here is an attempt at trying to explain what i am talking about.. as i get older, i've run across people from my past that have offered some of the most impressive, humbling compliments to me about me.. i wonder what i had done to them in the short time our paths crossed to be thought of in such an inspiring, thoughtful light.. i have done nothing extraordinary, nothing i would consider inspiring.. i listen, i offer encouraging words, lend a hand when needed..  yet, when i think of myself, i am often moody, often unapproachable, live within my own self-imposed fortress trying, sometimes in complete vain, to avoid all contact with other humans..

two different people residing in the same corporeal body..?  is that possible..?  i thought that was how a schizophrenic may be described (no offense to people who are afflicted with this horrible condition and may science one day conquer it so they may have a chance at a normal life).. have i become an enigma..?  a person that is puzzling, a paradox and a riddle and an otherwise inscrutable, mysterious person.?  why would someone be inspired by a riddle..?

as i write this, my mind is already analyzing the sematics involved in what a riddle is.. after thinking about it, i have come to a conclusion that a riddle is words, that when put together in some interesting, convoluted fashion, makes no sense yet actually has a meaning which, under further analysis, sheds light on something that once held no meaning and thus rendering it thought-provoking..

am i person that projects an image i want people to see as opposed to the one that lurks beneath the surface..?  am i a fraud, a facade, a pretender..?  i have no idea which.. i have days when i cannot decide whether i want tea, hot chocolate or a peanut butter-n-jelly sandwich and yet i am told i inspire.. could it be that i am uncomfortable accepting a compliment..?  but how can one accept a compliment of such a magnitude without becoming an arrogant, conceitied sort..?

so, i sit here on a beautiful day, wondering what i have done and wondering why i should be worthy of such a thing..  perhaps that is another riddle in many riddles i will come across and attempt to decipher during my lifetime, whether it is a short one or a long one (the women in my family have a tendency to life really long lives so i many have many, many years left to ponder this *ha* conundrum)..

a day in life..

has there ever been a day when you have come pretty much face to face with your mortality..? you wake up one morning, go about your day, all the while knowing you are climbing the ‘hill’ to becoming *scream* 50..! yet, on that very day, you do something you have done for years and years.. but by the end of that day, you find yourself fighting for your life. you sit back and think, “how is this possible? “

on the other end of that thought, you are unknowingly on a collision course with someone you have never met before.. a nameless, faceless person.. in an instant, that person will change the very course of your life. they woke up that morning, ate breakfast, got into their car, drove to work, blah, blah, blah.. pretty much the same as what you did.

what makes this day different..? what makes this day the day you come face to face with your mortality..? you make a wrong move, make a bad judgment call, happen to be in the right place at the wrong time..? you, in essence, screw up.

you feel yourself falling, flying, floating.. your thoughts are on your child.. did you talk to them today..? they know you love them, right..? is your dad or mom going to be mad..? how will they react to the news..? you are still falling, flying, floating.. you wonder if it all really happened.. you were sure you could make it..

you finally land.. the ground is hard, the sun is still shining and the noises sounds so odd.. faces appear that you do not know.. you hear people talking but for some reason you cannot understand them.. you close your eyes hoping it is all a dream, a surreal dream, a movie you in which you are surprisingly one of the stars.. when you finally open your eyes again, the walls are white, the light is dim, the low buzzing sounds of machinery enters your ears..

when you are finally fully conscious, the memories of the past days’ events come flooding back into your mind.. something you do every day and have done since you could remember, nearly ended your life.. but what made that day different..? you made a wrong move, a careless move.. it is in that instant, you realize you really are not invincible as you once thought.. unbeknownst to you, a shadowy figure has brought your mortality to the brink.. and decides to wait for another day..