playing, waiting, with typography and mesh - why do pens always leak on me? why am i sitting here? fly me to bermuda! lower me, raise me, i'll take the underground route if i have to, i'll plumb through pipe-world knocking blocks the whole way - oh look, restless leg syndrome, i'm doing it myself, unconsciously, the accuser becomes the perpetrator, prolly was all along, isn't that how things happen? i do it too, yes, and seeth at others - "everyone else is traffic" - chris, the bank robber for an hour junkie that died - a character that is, presumably, real, that stuck in my mind from the mary karr book because it stuck in her mind
look at these sunken eyes! not directly though - and pretend i'm on topic with my notes - i'm Slumpy, the Temporary Thought Stenographer - i tried, now i slump - people care about my welfare, abstractly, concretely, there's local charity, non-local well-wishers, the government even kicked in a tax refund, and that's good when you look at the big diagram - and i did my time in high school, so therefore i've earned the right to help myself to a modest amount from the collective pool - true, i didn't grow up to be beneficial, and i'm one of the takers, maybe once in a while an entertaining faker, but it's good to have some of those around, it feels good to support them i'd imagine, can only guess about being in a higher tax bracket
oh, the sadness i project onto everything - everyone is falling apart, like me, they must be - cause how nice it would be if that wasn't true, and nice things aren't realistic, they're symptoms of wishful thinking, so it must be true, it's not just me, it's everything that's in decline - some hold it together longer, and that's nice, a nice bit of niceness the universe throws down to this planet as a bone that someone grabs before the others
"tadpoles have gills at some phase" is not totally pointless to say, to him, i hear, in his voice - as this isn't totally pointless to write - and, bonus, it looks like i'm taking notes! albeit too many, too intently
oh, goddamn gordian knot solutions, that is the underlying addiction - of course, any drug, for an addict, is a gordian knot solution, and thinking there's a quick and easy solution to getting and staying clean is also a gordian knot solution, they're all delusional solutions, but i've at least managed to get free of those two illusions - but then, i'm still a raging addict to the false promise of gordian knot solutions - if i can't slash the knot in one easy beautiful machete move with drugs, if i can't slash the knot with some poetically compressed path to contented sobriety via spiritual awakening like on screen and in literature where it looks so simple and easy, then i can give death a make-over and think of that as a neat easy solution, and there i'm really just letting the deadlight in again and embracing the whole idea of drug-assisted pain-gain alchemy, staunch the bleeding of this miserable life in the best western hotel room, even, with a tight tourniquet to cut things off and delight in the head rush before blackness
gordian knot solutions, maybe i'll use that thing, about them being the underlying addiction, if i ever sponsor anyone - not even gonna make a chemistry pun here
"duh proof's in duh puddin", said the guy they always have in the group to moan about how nobody's here, nobody came, it's just this same lame gang of old moaners at the convention, arghgod i wanted to rage righteously, cause i'm mentally ill, not thinking but feeling like i have reasons to be rageful when i don't - i know, it's illness, and i'm poor at managing the psychic malady everyone has to deal with in their own maladjusted minds - you're maladjusted if you can read this, cause the frequency most words are written on can be picked up with a certain adjustment almost everyone has made, but that means maliciousness in dealing with the rest of the world, particularly the part sartre said was "mute" - there's new tricks they've come up with, still, for adjusting your nervous system, indeed, anyone's system, to the system, it's getting tricky to come up with new tricks, but there are a few left, and there's a place where tricks aren't needed, where we come from, but nobody knows where to draw the line, and tricks are needed in the mish-mash as a whole, and this is the place in which they're needed, which seems to be where we indigest with form and function, and maybe we could breathe without that stuff but how much of function is necessarily malicious? it shifts, like a trickster
some people wobble so wildly that you wanna put them on tv and eat popcorn to it, and call that your balance, a budget for cable and a free-standing sofa, that'll work for a while - everyone's mentally ill but not everyone is lazy, that's the crux of it - i've got a decent heart and soul but a weak will - well directed work could, well, not fix things, but could be helpful, could illustrate the best you can do with a life in this mess we're in, where no one gets out alive - a bid, not to fix things, but heroically battle against impossible odds for the sheer grandeur of it, like how rudyard kipling obnoxiously tells you how to be a man, my son - a finger in the dyke, a seat in the downing street clustershag, a princely bearing in the palace because tourist are moooney, and nigel didn't make all those plans so british steel could go bankrupt cause there was no monarchy to inspire large-scale building projects - but i don't wanna, no - i wanna die like uday hussein, if i can't die like christ, but if you wanna lay on me a kind of schizophrenia that will make me feel like i'm your son, and live, and die, accordingly, god, sure, lay it on me, let's see what happens, i know there's a lot of jesii running around at the moment, i've met one or two, but i could mutate a new strain - and i can't commit to death just yet, damnit - oh well, okay, that's fine, then, i should be thanking those things that made all of this necessary, and possibly possible
searching for the ultimate regime... the one that is good but not perfect, that's strict enuf to get results but tailored enuf for me to be comfortable with such a routine and happy enuf to stick to it... searching, searching, high and low, to the kwikimart mountains... it's utopian kinda, but not totally, not impossibly, and not necessarily in the category of "gordian knot solutions" - if i could be arsed to do it then it wouldn't deserve to be tagged and bagged as a gordian knot scheme
good god tho, energy is hard to come by these days - i'm a tired old man who never grew up - it's hard to be a prematurely old child - it's tiring - the awareness is draining
The badger is underground! The badger is underground. That's okay. Let 'er hib'rnate for as long as she can, there'll be no term limits - everything will be ok/anesthetized - awareness will be distilled into a drop
i will be the world's leading authority on gordian knot solutions and how to quit seeking them - one day, when i figure out how to quit seeking them... after sufficient folly, oh, i hope that's soon, this folly is hard for me to stomach, it doesn't feel like folly, it feels acidic - one day i'll be deputized to be a ditch-digger, cause the world needs them too, a ditch digger giving the occasional bit of sage advice to the roadside chain gangs, but still taking more than i'm giving - cause it'd be nice to take what people have to give, rather than giving shit to everything like the universe is my complaint department, which it is, among other things, they'll never take that away from me until they do - ugly duckling to narcissistic swan to survivalist scavenger to carrion
1 comment:
i take Wellbutrin and Buspirone, and i chew gum continuously. cuz i quit smoking too.
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