As the Pendulum Swings.....

His tendency is on the surface simple, almost banal. He always moves towards the melancholic; always towards the emotional and intuitive, even as part of himself quietly resists with its gently yet firm rational reprimandation. Ever are his two selves fighting for supremacy. Yet he has gone so far in interpolating these, the Dionysian and Apollonian, that whatever self there is cannot consider or know itself without these oppositions. These antinomies are what he has become. As one part whispers ever so seductively: Things are what they are, and should be. Enjoy. To you are the fruits of existence. Another part always responds: This is not happiness. This is but a shadow of a shadow. There is something more. You are playing a game of slave and master; always playing the part of either. This is not freedom. By the light of day the voice of complacency is stronger. The voice of least resistance. Attuning itself to the empty rhythms of contentment. But by night his heart beats to different drum. It rails and rages against the hypocrisies and platitudes of respectable society. It promises itself revolution and rebellion. Yet every morning sees a return to a more rational state of mind. He awakes as if from a furious dream, all the while knowing that the tempest has not past, but is merely slumbering. Awaiting the setting of dusk.