Digital Distractions & Analog Rebellion

Hi Friends,

I hope you are well.

This Fall is all about waiting. Patience. Sitting still with all this loose adrenaline and crass cortisol pumping through my veins. Not just mind over matter, but mind over its own chemical output. Meditating in a garden of wasps. OMMMMM…

Each morning I do little exercises in stream of consciousness to get my mind in a more fantastic space. It seems to work and so, here are a few:

*******

From forgotten dream to spiking anxiety, a day that only says, "Wait." Wait in the room with chihuahua microaggressions pumping through your nervous & lymphatic systems. Wait for the benefit of the vet printing 3-d parts for your unconditional lover. Breathe backwards (or inhale) and count to seventy-two while chanting the word your babysitter gave you to chant while she was busy evolving on the phone... 9-19-15

Creepy chick molesting a guy's hand with her bare tits...

********

Good Morning, Pope-star:

I look forward to your words. You're the kind of Pope who speaks not just to the ears but into the microphone of the soul. I like that you want to cure the Earth's cancer and the church's child porn rash. You disavow my dysphoria, but here's how I deal w/ that: I motor over to the Town Shopping Center and buy a hat just like yours ($9.99 at H&M). Now I feel like a pure white cock tucked in the crack of Donald Trump's bible. I love you like a brother, Human Pope-star. Here is my question for you: Is it better for a child to wash ashore in red or in a plastic bag? 9-20-15

...

*********

Morning migraine brings alternate universe into focus. Pain is good for that. I see the me I could've been if I'd taken all the forks in the tightrope…I'm glad I took this one, but now is now and then is losing its clout. The tightrope keeps on splitting and I can see its veiny hand lying flat on the documents that release me from the world. Stay on the right ropes and I will get there, unsafe, unsound, signing on the bottom line: Do Not Reincarnate  9-21-15

ewwww...

**********

My doctor died. He was 61 (which is the new 16). Last time I was in to see him, I could hear the voice of the patient in the adjacent room. It got weird as I realized he was getting a digital rectal prostate exam. Weirder still---I recognized his voice & knew who it was. I could barely hear the doctor's hushed tones, but I could hear everything the patient was saying. When the doctor finally came in to see me, I was a little unnerved by what I'd heard. And when I get anxious or stressed my voice kind of fails me. The doctor went over the results of my blood test as usual. I could tell he was not feeling well. When it came time to say good-bye he said, "It was good to see you again." And, because I was so anxious and stressed, all I could say was "urrghhh." When I found out he died, I was so upset that the last thing I said to him was "urrghhh" that I cried for 52 minutes. He was a really good doctor. Sorry this is not a stream-of-conscious masterpiece, but more of a prosaic tribute.

9-22-15

.

**********

Have a good weekend ya' all.