Thursday, March 31, 2022

Apophantic Inspissation

3/30

Smoking as a ‘good habit’ (without Godot to tell me otherwise).  Tired of waiting?  I was staying in bed, dream-looping a trip to the toilet while remaining put until enuresis.  This is me avoiding the spontaneity that is anything spontaneous happening to me!  The victim of a potential trauma that may require a nurse’s assistance!  To l’hopital!  Where a salty nurse, begrudging her job doesn’t really care whether patient 'A' lives or dies.  (She begins to care when patient Omega threatens her livelihood, key to her very life.)

“Anybody can stay up to 3, try 4, with a (key) bump, but try waking up at 4 (and staying awake) to see a real G suffering,” a day nurse recognizing a drug epidemic has her working overtime administers a Demerol to supplement a Fentanyl patch for a hit-and-run victim of unpaid debt to a black-market drug-dealing collective. This new addict will be able to be farmed for his prescription fills in his convalescence.

“Books done?” at a warehouse so stereotypical of villains.

“BBQ’d,” Another burn victim presents.

“More morphine, STAT!” as a smoky mess agonizes on a gurney.

“What did he do to get burned this way?  I can smell the gasoline.  This was no crash.”

 

Synecdoche of a catachrestic metonym: What it’s like to live at the wrong place at presumably the wrong time.  You just feel like Jonah being thrown overboard to pacify the sea. Since he seemed so at peace with the roiling seas, fast asleep, he presented not a hand on deck despite the captain’s calling, (one might interpret, given the Biblical context).  Every able-bodied man who didn’t want to be swallowed up by a big fish should have reported.  Nary a ceremony of the plank for the condemned!  The captain was convinced based on pure logic – do unto others – that he would always be a deckhand, and that if he ever missed a day of duty, he’d be willing to suffer the fate of Davy Jones.  Especially when one considers it is possible by some miracle to arrive on the shores of Nineveh a more enlightened being!  Just ask Yann Martel!  If Zarathustra can experience enlightenment from talking to monsters and rocks, how much more so is one enlightened by navigating the sea?  How much Will is required to smack Chris?!

“Christ almighty!  I couldn’t believe!" and back into his own thoughts,  "The thing is I get bummed out when I disappoint myself and instead of not disappointing myself I perform rituals that allow me to feel less bummed out, but the things that I do to feel less bummed out bum me out sometimes more than I felt before,” speaks an addict archetype.


“It’s only natural to desire to feel more or not-go-numb in other parlance,” says my maternal therapist, “although the occasional psychotic episodes may be found to be problematic in uncertain company.  Which is really why one should surround oneself with those deemed trustworthy,” which makes common sense enough it seems. “That one Pink Floyd song, ‘Comfortably Numb’ comes to mind.  The dark, existential quandary of trying to escape oneself, or at least avoid what it is about oneself that is painful to experience or re-experience.  But are any two April showers identical?”

Baby Cantillon’s fontanelle!  Is there any other way to see Hell?  Here goes Virgil, I suppose:

            I can’t I can’t I can’t (go to)
            Canton, OH(IO).  Canto?
            I shake my head ‘no’.  I hear myself
            sing. No secrets? No secretions?
            Does nothing become sanguine?
            Do I feel no shame? When I act
            in accordance with nature or my will,
            what seems like a mistake becomes a
            learning experience which will in turn
            become a consequence of who I am.
            What is it like to be me? Few know,
            fewer care, but I’d rather be
unknown in a world not meant for me, not particularly
motivated nor enlightened enough to be.  Whatever
one might say of privilege, if I didn’t have any,
I suppose it’d be an honor to know, or at least
be introduced.  What is unidentifiable is always
the greatest threat because it really makes one
feel out-of-control (which I guess is desirable).

In today’s day ‘n’ age, Will attempts to divide a diamond on live TV with his bare hands!  A retiring mineralogist speaks to jade:

I’m outside myself.  I’m not interested in you anymore.  I have to build myself up just to be around you, and you’re no longer worth it to me.  It’s hard for me to do what I do - act this way – and I no longer find it enjoyable to be around you, to be in your presence.  Although I consider myself a righteous man and understanding certain commitments and vows were made to one another both in public and in secrecy, they are null in my soul and void in my heart and that is a feeling that is both total satiation and emptiness at the same damn time!  If I had more words for you or things to say, I would, but I’m out.

So he leaves his old home (that is an embarrassment of wealth-equality in that neighborhood), punching bag slung over his back, a work in progress.

 

How is my inner hummingbird not self-referential?  Source of sugar-water I suppose, psychic hologram feet give birth to Rowan Atkinson's face.  If one’s failure is inevitable, fail, and get over it.  Sisyphus scoffs (but keeps pushin’!).  So far my consciousness practice has net me three hours today that in days prior I would have slept.  As I enjoyed long nights, so too shall I enjoy my longer days?  Life is but a dream!  Excessive rest and audiences lose interest.  What are you, retired?  Of the world, but not at the same time, stories of ascetic monks creep in from Asia, where feats of endurance continue.  What we see as a war may be considered a scuffle to the history of the land itself, reclaiming a deforested urban center (capital or not) that has not enough root (chakra) to sustain itself on the surface of the suddenly engulfing terrain.  Is this person really upset about how I oriented my table, my orientation, or about tables in general?  Considering what it would mean to love again (since the way things have gone leading up to this moment are with the wind) I ask myself, How have I loved?  How have I lost (definition)?  How have I lead (as a leader) to this moment?  Lovingly or steely?  Look!  Not every scenario or situation in this life calls for love when our very survival’s at stake!  There’s a time and there’s a place to slap the shit out of Rocks, and it’s definitely at the Oscar’s where he’s as vulnerable as my half-deaf friend who acts because it has served him in the past to get out of difficult situations with those who are gullible, ignorant, or naïve enough to buy it.  Those I feel sorry for, are they even grateful for my pity?!  That’s a thing, nobody in this world enjoys your continual condescension.  The echo from the noise of you going down those stairs reverberates like a stomping megaphone.  All the way down to slap the shit out of the very Devil who wasn’t expecting that sort of attention!  What did (s)He do (lately)?!  It’s like you can never forgive some people who require the sort of judgment no mere mortal man may mete.  What is the discipline and the punishment or the total reformation that must be undergone to rehabilitate society itself?  Build Back Better, baby Brandon! (And include funds for the Better Business Bureau while you’re at it, because some of these corporations are operating at disconcerting levels of efficiency.)  But there’s more to be said about the hungry little Caterpillar® than mere autophobia (literally ‘fear of self,’ but means, fear of abandonment (of self (which happens so prevalently amongst those supposedly most fearful of it, it's a wonder they don’t do anything to alter their aberrant behaviors)).  How is one to simply walk away from ‘the good life?’  How is one to walk away from an autocratic leadership role?  I got really good at snapping my fingers and getting a Coach bag, a haircut, and coochie!  Now what am I supposed to do, dance again?  Probably the best way to make the most money after a stunt like that!  But now I’m going back into a course of bad thinking that monetizes everything and gives nothing away.  Am I a miserly sort?  Who, when willing, doubts one’s ability to succeed in obtaining an object of desire?  What, more suffering?  Screw you again, Buddha, twice!


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