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The Diary of David Alexian: Using Words to Light My Spirit.


The Diary of David Alexian: Using Words to Light My Spirit.

A sample of what I wrote, which offered me comfort.



Copyright © 2015 David Alexian

All rights reserved.






In memory of Ms. Phyllis.






No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever: electronic or photocopying, recording or by any informational storage or retrieval system without the consent of the writer’s signed permission.

The information presented herein, represents the views or opinions of the author. This book is for informational purposes only.


While every attempt has been made to present the information in this book as it was in the original diary written over the years, names of persons in the writings have been left out, as the author did not get their consent and will honor their confidentiality.


While the writer will encourage the use of a diary to record thoughts which may trouble one, the writer does not claim to be a medical doctor or a psychiatrist and will always recommend persons who are in need of medical or psychological assistance seek out such.





























Today is another day, yet it is somewhat different too most days.

Outside my window, rain drops are trickling down from the frosty blue, white and gray skies.

No, in my head there are no colours; no colours in my mind, yet my thoughts are comparable to the bleeding sky.


Although the raging rains are outside, there is a sort of intermittent calm, a peace.


I too, I am tired, yet there is a strange inner peace within my body.


But the inner harmony is not always so. The things I do continually at times becomes wearisome and I need to rest a while, catch my rhythm, look at life, look at what I have become, what I am doing with my life! And, how far my progress has reached.

April 2002





One of the strange things that happens to me, is the strong feeling for someone close, next to me, just as God is close to me.


A physical person or friends, someone with my characteristics, someone who understands me.


Sometimes people hint to me that I am uninterested. Uninterested they say?


They are wrong!


How could they?


But, but sometimes I believe it.


Is it wrong to feel lonely or insecure, even when the entire earth is all around?


No really, I am asking you the question, because I don’t know!


For, from time to time this is the feeling I have.


But there is an inner peace, a strange drive that spurs me on today, something that is sacred.

April 2002





Although life is not an easy going walk in the park for me, no matter how much I cry inside, no matter how difficult the work I pursue may be, I laugh still, I experience joy still, I love still.


Here we are, all for a purpose, great or small. Our purpose is measured out for us by the things we pursue.


When I hate the world, I remember that I have a purpose to make it a better place for others, in some small way.


As the day would end, the morning will come. The sun will rise!


I have hope, there is hope, I have faith.


I will live and love with my heart. The sun will rise for each of us. Each day with a new beginning.


Here we are, with a purpose!


April 2002




One of the strange realities that we must deal with, is the belief that the world is against us or maybe even have forgotten us. However, this feeling I think is something normal.


Sometimes I feel that I am neglected physically and emotionally by others. I am irritated by that.


Or could it be that I neglect myself?


Whenever I look around, at people nearest to me though, people like family and friends who try their best, in whatever way to support me, I am reminded.


Of what, you may ask?


Reminded of the love that others have for me.


The issue to battle with constantly is the fact that sometimes what we aspire for or what we focus on or dream about—many times it is something of material value—this takes fairly sometime in becoming a reality and that pains us.


Taking such a long time angers us, we want instant gratification.


We have needs, which if not met disturbs us.


Doing so to the point that we can question our existence, reality or God.

June 2002







Although we see goals materialize before our very eyes. The heart can feel lonely, afraid and weary, for we live in the unknown—there is not much certainty in life.


Yet we still believe.


We prepare, we take what life throws at us. Letting life take sail in its many perfect directions.


But, if only it was that easy.


So, we then know that we will fail, we give up, fall down and play dead. Even doing that is not so simple. I am irritated by that idea.


That’s not us, it cannot be, there must be more.


I think there is. We were created with the built in mechanism to feel guilty. Guilty if we should fail to try.


Our conscience would not let us float away that freely. It makes us aware of the many people that would benefit from the success that we would one day attain; consciously directing our life.


I came to realize and sometimes need to remind myself, that we must adapt to live life on a day to day basis and time would tick each day into the future.


When this notion is achieved, then and only then can we understand what life is all about, what inner peace is all about, what self development is all about.


When we slow down time this way, we get time to see the vegetations and to listen to the sounds that are all around us.


We must try not to be too hasty to get our mission completed, because chances are we will miss the true meaning of development, the true meaning of living.

Though we may feel connected to someone or something emotionally, we need to expand—this is not easy—and admire all that life has to offer us.


June 2002





The displeasure of young adulthood sometimes brings grief to my mind. The constant restrictions and the limitations that my body and mind have, indeed disturbs me greatly. Sometimes to the point of mania or to tears. I ask myself at times, why does all these turmoil occur in my life?


I would allow my mind to wander into the imaginative world. In this world, there are no limitations here. I can do whatever I please, no limitations! I can be who I want too, solve all my problems and the matters of others.


If only I can stay there forever!


But then, what kind of human being will I be, if I refused to face my trials in the world I live in with faith, with real faith. I do not live in the fictional world that is present in my imagination. I sometimes go there, but I cannot stay there; it is my imagination.


The thing is, I must constantly remind myself of the many blessings that God has given me. I am living, I am thinking, I have family and friends.


Sometimes though, with the frustration of what I have to accomplish in life, not always knowing the path to take, I sometimes lose my balance for a while.


When I envision the excellence of those around me, and compare them to myself, I become afraid. I then forget all that I possess, the talents and abilities I have.


August 2002





Blood, sweat and sometimes tears go into my work, yet still, I am judged and found wanting. Even when I am the best I can be, I sometimes think about what they say; and foolishly believe.


Time and time again, I have seen my honesty work against me. Sometimes the ways of the depraved seems to be the right way.


I am not sure that I will accomplish all I set my mind to.


I do not know how far life will go with me, but what I know is that I have much in life to be thankful for: health, wisdom, love, faith, and a measure of peace.


Love always, my heart be joyous even in difficult times.


August 2002




The temple of my soul is once more without its worshipers.


The fall of mankind’s world adds stress, as it feeds the dark side of me. The sounds they are quiet, the love has turned to hate and confusion.


Although I know it will only last for but a moment, yet I worry.


At times like this, the music is not too loud, no matter how high the volume.


The day dreams just does not come, to release me from the madness punishing my feelings.


That is what it is, the emptiness.

November 2002





No matter how well I understand the functions of the biological, the social or the psychological world, when it happens to me and I cannot sleep, I am without defenses.


I cannot become envious of the prosperity of the wicked, what they do is wrong. I must rely on God to guide me.


Passion brings heat, but I am cold, my consciousness is frozen in loneliness, my will to survive is reduced.


But, still…


Even though I feel I am alone, I am not. And I must believe that.


No matter how much things I have, my Love is not with me, it hurts. It feels like I am missing something.


On a poster I hung, missing, but I cannot be found.


The timing is wrong, I must lose my grip.


When my hurdles are crossed, I will finally raise my head and hope that I am not alone again.


But if this is the case, I know that I will continue to live and be free of the chains of my anguish some day.


November 2002





I will lift up an exaltation to God for my strength dwelt in my knowledge of him.


He has created my very bones and my organs; perfect my body is in form, despite the trials it faces.


When my flesh fails my God accepts me; passing or failing my God loves me still.


The shadows of evil constantly knocks on my shoulders, seeking tremendously to corrupt my being; the flames of wrong burns.


My life is no stranger to acts of shame and discord; God knows and loves me, he each time restores my mind to a place of calm.


Tonight he will also do so, therefore I will wait a few more minutes for that calm.

November 2002





My thoughts are too far focused on the paradise to come, yet my body suffers because of the worlds pleasure.


So I struggle; my hands and feet to guide me to the promised land.


My inclination wants to offer freedom to the soul—but is this not for a short time?


True reason and logic oppresses the wants of the wayward heart.


At times, I feel that I am alone, left to make my own decisions, and I am afraid.


Errors are my evidence, reminding me of who I am and the path I will most likely choose.


In spite of this, I can do nothing to change tonight. I look to tomorrow. For the sun world rise again and the world will once again make sense.


I would wait, for there is no other true way, for the things that might be given me.


The sun is seen then the moon, which is more important, which is not necessary for continuation of life? Yet only one has glory at a time. Only one at a time has command.


In life, not all opportunities come the same time, some faster than others but they come.


If life is a test, then there must be a reward at the end!

November 2002





Restrictions I admit, govern my life for the good, nevertheless they are still restrictions.

When I look at the wicked, I must admit, prosperity and their freedom, makes me jealous.


Everything appears good before us, but I have learnt that not all is for us.


I will trust in God for all, not knowing if the things I seek is for me. I cannot question those things and get an answer and know for sure. Had this been the case I will not hesitate to ask.


The questions of my youth, they antagonize my belief; not to prevail though but they are there.


Only God can give me the strength that I need to carry me to victory.


November 2002





My soul is no foreigner to pain, lust and other corrupting influences.


Yet I want to do what is right.


Faults and turmoil injects my body, the agony; the anguish drives my mind to mania.


I want to give up, I think about doing bad, what is sinful.


My body aches for evil, as though in love with it.


Care, what care? The selfish desires walk in my thoughts. I think of giving up.

My heart rejoice at the way my mind entertains evil and immoral visions.




In the end, the goal of what the real life is, is to strong, to great. For I would repent earnestly to God, for he is my only hope of salvation.


Still, I think of wildness and gross freedoms, but the time period is short and the rewards are pitiful, upsetting to the intestines. My youthful energies boil in my blood of vulgarity.


Let God’s force calm my breath and weakness. The mercies of God on my flesh!


December 3, 2002





I am here to fulfill a dream, one that I am willing to accept. And though at the end the rewards are sweet, I sure do not now enjoy much of it!


My goals are realistic, but we live in a world where the actual is obtained and not the ideal. So my purpose, I play musically to myself; in life is but a small song.


I know that I am contributing to something, yet my all sometimes make me feel deprived of my energies—mental and physical.


I am trapped in a room that seems smaller every day. I only come out to smell agony—the rose of insecurity. Then retreats from more threats.


I comfort others though I am alone; I smile to fool my mind into thinking that all is well. The comfort I want now would not bring me eternal happiness, but eternal happiness is somewhere into the unknown future.


Your voice is pretty, soft and sweet but only time can tell; for merry hearts of ours to be. I am alone.


My God grants me courage and forgiveness ever more.

I long for sweet wine and little cheerful hearts to call me; the warm hand, gentile words and songs.


Oh, how I long for that day!


It will not bring eternal happiness but some comfort, until that day is here.


December 12, 2002





Sometimes I have troubled falling asleep at nights like this. I see strange things in my thoughts, they do not rest. I feel lonely, afraid of my mind; what it will think of next. Without sleep the mind becomes a genius at gloomy visions.


Childhood has past, gone with the wind, but with the sunshine too. Childhood, if that was what I thought it was—the pleasurable times with fun and idleness; no care in the world. And then, it all stopped.


Thrown to the enemy, I am forced to think differently. I play the part.


The birds sing, the flowers grow, the voices are there. But something has changed. No longer am I to look at the past and the present but the future.


And so it was a future of turmoil to me.


I listened to the night sounds, different from that of the day, much different. The animals are asleep, however some work the night, for food, fun and possibly like me, they have trouble falling asleep. Or probably they trail the forest floor looking for friendship. They seek a soft encouragement, for spirit and rejuvenation of the soul, for the white flower that holds the night drop of dew.


A faint smell of temptation, the laughable smile, it stands in my mind. The joys of admiring life when comforted with colour. This can be splendor. This can be bliss. I see her for a moment and then she is gone.

December 17, 2002





I cannot believe that my mind is so tainted to the things that are good, so that I keep sinning. My weak flesh, my sick visions, my want and my fluctuating patience.


If only life was just, my existence would not have been plagued with so much pain, with so much hurt.


The fiery skies of shadows and torment, with parch earth, opens its mouth and releases confusion.


My youth has not always been kind to me. I run, I jump and skip, but I am me, I feel alone, afraid and in need.


Like a mythical silver shadow, she looks on, she is beautiful. Her long straight hair, her infectious smile, her cute lips, morning dew breath and stream lined figure.


I want to call out to her, for an answer. To hear her voice, become lost in the trance of love.


The bitterness of being away, it screens the soul, rips the beating heart out, and frustrates the pulse of life.


Standing at the junction.


I really want to get to know you better, oh sweet rose and fragrant thyme. I hope one day to tell you…


But goddesses are for gods. A goddess you are, fit for a throne of perfumed leaves, of feathers and crystal and more.

Started January 22, 2003; Completed January 23, 2003





For if love was like the ocean, then I would sail you each day.

For if love was like a moment, then this time would never end.

For if love was like poetry, then I would indeed have much to say.


For if love was like a letter, then I’ll write you a letter each day.


For if love was like a garden, then it would be filled with roses.

For if love was like a hug, then I would always have my hand around you.


But, is love not all these things?


I care but with a tear, I cry, inward hurt though trying not to show.


In life the right time is but one, and this is not it.


I admire your smile, your skin, hair. You are a chaste goddess.

February 4, 2003





I stand and look, not with lust, but with admiration. You are beautiful, you are sweet, you are wonderful.


Words can be colours; but you I can never paint.


Words can be charm; but with you how could they have effect?


You are great and lovely but I am me.


Can your soul bridge mine; could my will be, as a result of my love and care? Or will I dream the visions of lonely lost men on the open sea?


I have faith.


Chance is my gift as a fly. The spider web a deadly trap; and unknown one; one I have not learned the secret doors to escape.


It got me!


So this is what fondness feels like. It is strange.


I fight the spider’s web but I am tired.


My arms go weak, my legs go weary, my heart is burdened.


I preoccupy my time with distractions, but they seldom work.


Your shadow is my friend.

February 22, 2003





When old in pain and winter threat.

The age is scared, some time upset.

Body drained and burdened, the weary soul of age.


Youth, they cry aloud.

We cannot understand, where are you.

The final state of man.


They once remembered the days of small, the pencils, crayons their writing on the wall.

The adventures, and friends, we were not bent, but stood tall.


For the youth it is not so.

For I lack the age I want to be.

The time of old, with job, house and security.


One day I will be older

March 3, 2003





Like the morning star, the sun waits for the night’s moon to past.

Like misty clouds of afar, light waits for its daily task.


I see it, for sleep has left me.

The symphony of life plays it’s merry song, to accompany my soul; until one day to stop.


For as the dark night transforms to daylight, another orchestra of life must usher in.



February 11, 2003





The comforters have retreated for the night.


Darkness suddenly descends upon the land, the birds have landed from their flight.


There is a blanket over me, outside shadows play with the trees.


But I will be okay. I have been here before.


Soon there will be light at the days break.


In my bed, warm I will wait.


Sometime after 2003





I have not been over the hills. I cannot tell what secret it holds.

My weary kidneys have failed me, I feel all alone.


Dragons have captured the castle, it is a day of furry.

The galleries with art is torched, there is no relaxation now, tears have come.


In the fields the roses have died. In the water courses the lilies have withered.


There are weeds and thorns bleeding from my heart. The ship has sailed, the city has fallen.


In the ruins I sit, with a crushed spirit.


My heart has grown weary, the children have finally gone silent. They have called her name Joy, Joy, but she did not answer.


I have offered sacrifices to God; the smoke of time, energy and effort. He is well pleased. He has shown me kindness.


In my hand is my utensils for food and in my lungs the breath of his.


Though crushed, I have life.


Sometime after 2003





My weeping heart stops the water from cascading down my eyes, it is now internal.


It is drying up today though.


My mind and heart is forever in battle. The field is my soul. I hear crashing, now I see dark.


The cold icy breeze, ruffles the dead leaves on the concrete tree.

The world appears lifeless. The world is me.


Maybe the storm would pass by, perhaps the naked flower would blossom.


It will not rain today.


Oh, I will love it to be so!


I see peace in her velvet white dress.


I am hopeful.


Whatever her manifestations, she will love me.


I once heard, that darkness can only exist because of the absence of light. Light can only be absent if it exist. She is out there.


I will attain splendor, for I am hopeful.


Sometime after 2003





The Diary of David Alexian: Using Words to Light My Spirit.

Have a look through my eyes, as you muse on my words. Putting words down can have true meaning; lead to poetry, redemption, self discovery and healing. My feeling is that a person does not have to go through life burden down, by the mental disturbances which can manifest; owed to challenging internal or external experiences. In my youth, I found that writing calmed me, it allowed me to express thoughts on paper; helping me cope with the struggles in life, of understanding myself, developing relationships with others and being able to face rejections and fears.

  • ISBN: 9781311870919
  • Author: David Alexian
  • Published: 2015-12-13 19:20:19
  • Words: 4044
The Diary of David Alexian: Using Words to Light My Spirit. The Diary of David Alexian: Using Words to Light My Spirit.