Nudge

Nudge
I nudge my cardiovascular system by extending my daily journey from the Dark Kitchen Room to The Light Room Of Many Windows and the kitchen and the light room of many windows and…the… It sure is bright in there. There’s a world of difference between them. Both serve a purpose. But really. Who would choose to volunteer for such an experiment? The Study Of Adaptation From The Perspective Of Extremes.
Once I complete the journey, I’m back to my steadfast routine. Sometimes I cook. But mostly, I nurse a mug of espresso and consume lots of cigarettes and swirl ideas above my head. The dark kitchen room is a good way to transition from sleep to wakefulness. It has no light. Not a single window. And some icons covered in spider-webs stuck in a corner. It’s thoroughly dank. However, you never have to fear you’ll wake up blinded down here. It’s impossible.
Along with the diet of dank corners, you get to experience and taste dank thoughts. Who would’ve ever thought you’d end up doing this? I see one hand raised. Great. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
It’s no different than living in a cave – though I have never lived in one. The chief resemblance is the dampness, the darkness, the absence of life. So you finally understand your sole mission and what isn’t. It was not as you had imagined. There were no ballerinas there. There were no canvases filled with brilliant colors. However, music was the nearby thread to the world of Living things. Some of the music was dank. But most of it wasn’t.

(Draft)

The Human Imposter (Revision)

The Human Imposter
One day I discovered that where our tails had once been, scales now began to appear and develop. The rest of my flesh was still intact, but for how long? While most prefer to think in terms of evolution, I was forced to consider an alternative to orthodox doctrines – de-evolution. Could I be going backwards? How far had I evolved if this were, in fact, the case? Did I evolve into a worthwhile specimen?
Instead of ascending to higher planes, I was returning to that pool where everything – at least, in this world –
The Cosmic Soup.
And if that were the case, would that be the end, or would that merely begin the entire cycle again? And what would the journey backwards consist of? Would we use the same route going back?
But first, back to getting here …
If that were so, that would mean that at some stage, we were anything but human, our origins, unknown. Was there a hidden door, hitherto unknown, to becoming human – just when we thought we had figured out the puzzle, a piece would then dislodge the entire frame of thought? We could have been dogs, tigers, elephants or mastodons. But what would those who had become mastodons, for example, having faced extinction – what would become of them? Were they dead-enders?
If that were so, then how did that influence those others who became what we are?
The ones who completed the entire cycle? Would a person who had once been a tiger, for example, now be a danger to others? Who were the rats that populate our cities and countryside? Does any of this even make any sense?
If there were a door, or some other type of latch, whose existence we had not been previously privy to, this would then require yet another adjustment of scientific, moral and religious thought on a radical scale.
It seems that if this were so, we would have to rewrite biology (and other) textbooks, to explain the enormous shift in thought, to explain how this freshly picked bulb proved the entire body of knowledge and thought completely wrong. Everything would have to be reconstructed.
If that were so, then we could place each version side-by-side, and study the errors in thought we had made and how those errors yielded false conclusions. And we would always have to leave space for that knowledge we still did not possess, and may never possess – Ignorance, the knowledge of The Unknown.
Now that kind of job would interest me – reviewing the lineage of flawed ideas, knowledge, perceptions, and perspectives, and their application in the world we live in. But I fear this will not be possible, as I observe the transformation my body has embarked on, the rapid reversal from flesh into scales, has now reached my fingertips.

Suicidal? Sheppard Pratt may be your cup of tea. 

Go there and come out stark raving mad?

Hm. 

Tough choice. 

Sheppard Pratt Asylum Is designed as a Critical CARE Psychiatric Stabilization facility for those who struggle with medical conditions such as Bipolar Disorder (like myself) or any other psychiatric “diagnosis.” It has an impressive and illustrious history as an innovative facility when it was first conceived and built in the mid-19th century – a refuge, with its concentration on humane treatment. 

However, reputation, to be sustained, must demonstrate consistency of those values and principles, rather than regression from them. 

Undoubtedly, Sheppard and Pratt are totally turning in their graves. 

The isolation we feel exhaustively, all by ourselves, ripens there. 

So there are parallels to the real world. Severe Depression, which is just a hop, skip and jump away from Death, actually spikes exponentially there. 

The Human Spirit is crushed, until we finally, breath by breath, disappear. This, my friend, is where you go to watch yourself become one of The Invisibles. 

Now when you are on the outside, you have some wiggle room. You may choose to remove yourself from the Kingdom of Ignorance, if only for a breath of fresh air, and focus on the brightness of the Human Spirit. 
We have choices. 

Smell the fragrance of a lovely flower. 

Meditate. 

Listen to music. 

Dance. 

There we have no choices. We are at the mercy of Stupidity, Ignorance and Fools, and we have nowhere to go, locked between two nightmares. 

There is this clearly defined and unshakeable and raw feeling that they do not care. 

Then again, if you wanna but haven’t yet experienced depersonalization, it’s available there. Think of it as a lean, introductory course on the subject. And since I am naturally an optimist, I feel compelled to plug the positive spin here. 

First, your empathy and understanding have grown for those who do experience such devastating psychological symptoms. 

Second – 

Who knows? 
This accidental slip, for example, allows you to drift into unknown territory altogether, as you wonder if you really did, in fact, erase your memory of an entire day of your existence, because someone is insisting you did – when you didn’t. 

Luckily, there are other patients there who know that you didn’t – just as you had thought. And they are now your salvation. 

But this additional drop of uncertainty and confusion has now bloomed in your head. 

Shit happens, right?

Be forewarned, however, any heroic attempt to battle the trolls and the slugs just makes you crazier. Totally not worth it. 

They follow whatever code they’ve culled and pinned to you from the Diagnostic Statistic Manual, and we all know how that keeps expanding with each new edition. 

But that’s exactly when the epiphany occurs …

I had never truly understood what I Am Not My Diagnosis meant until I realized that that is all you are there – a code. 

Yep. 

Hey!  Look at me. I’m still here.  

Sadly, they do not hear or see you.  You have disappeared. 

So when the object of hospitalization is to support and help you shed the nasty symptoms of Depression, and instead you are fighting to be seen and heard – those are the exact type of challenges we do not need. 

The salt on the wound is the absolute isolation from the actual world. This is the abyss. Isolation is not good. They keep preaching that. And then that’s exactly what they do. 

So what do you do?

Well, trying to pry open their eyes is futile. They get really, really pissed at you. And that makes them more sinister and deadly, while they sharpen their ignorance from unbelievable heights, as you are fighting for your sanity …

The plus?

You are too fucking busy to be worrying about Suicide. So in that sense they have met their goal. You have shifted from suicidal ideation to absolute self-preservation. Plus, Existentialism is the only dish on the menu. 

Yum. 

Reminds me of a poem by Stevie Smith. An attempt to communicate with those on shore, while being swallowed by the sea …

“Not waving. But drowning.”  

The Difference Between The Crazy Ones And The Normal One

WordPress is determined to introduce new ways of solving problems because of their dinosaur physique.
They squeeze the solutions out of their users.
SO …
And this post keeps popping up as having failed to post.
So at this point, I have no idea how many of these are out there.
But it sure is lots of fun!

_______________________
So I have no idea whatsoever where this fits in this fomenting imaginary monster …
At some point I recall saying something about patterns emerging, but beyond that, I haven’t got the foggiest as to what’s going on here.
It all began with a tiny accident. Lately, I see pieces that had posted showing the post failed. I didn’t want a double-post, and I didn’t know what to do with it, other than edit what lay ahead of me and publish it.
As for today (space for confessional here) the sky is chronically gray with occasional intense thunderstorms. And it is on this day – today – my marriage ended, according to court filings. (Appropriate forecast there.)
I made it!
Yay…………
________________
One may often wonder about that …
How do you explain it?
To demonstrate an accurate version of it.
What general perceptions exist about the Crazies? Stereotypes?
Well lots of those exist.
They’re really popular.
Dynamite stuff.

The Difference Between The Crazy Ones And The Normal One

WordPress is determined to introduce new ways of solving problems because of their dinosaur physique.
They squeeze the solutions out of their users.
SO …
And this post keeps popping up as having failed to post.
So at this point, I have no idea how many of these are out there.
But it sure is lots of fun!

_______________________
So I have no idea whatsoever where this fits in this fomenting imaginary monster …
At some point I recall saying something about patterns emerging, but beyond that, I haven’t got the foggiest as to what’s going on here.
It all began with a tiny accident. Lately, I see pieces that had posted showing the post failed. I didn’t want a double-post, and I didn’t know what to do with it, other than edit what lay ahead of me and publish it.
As for today (space for confessional here) the sky is chronically gray with occasional intense thunderstorms. And it is on this day – today – my marriage ended, according to court filings. (Appropriate forecast there.)
I made it!
Yay…………
________________
One may often wonder about that …
How do you explain it?
To demonstrate an accurate version of it.
What general perceptions exist about the Crazies? Stereotypes?
Well lots of those exist.
They’re really popular.
Dynamite stuff.

The Difference Between The Crazy Ones And The Normal One

WordPress is determined to introduce new ways of solving problems because of their dinosaur physique.
They squeeze the solutions out of their users.
SO …
And this post keeps popping up as having failed to post.
So at this point, I have no idea how many of these are out there.
But it sure is lots of fun!

_______________________
So I have no idea whatsoever where this fits in this fomenting imaginary monster …
At some point I recall saying something about patterns emerging, but beyond that, I haven’t got the foggiest as to what’s going on here.
It all began with a tiny accident. Lately, I see pieces that had posted showing the post failed. I didn’t want a double-post, and I didn’t know what to do with it, other than edit what lay ahead of me and publish it.
As for today (space for confessional here) the sky is chronically gray with occasional intense thunderstorms. And it is on this day – today – my marriage ended, according to court filings. (Appropriate forecast there.)
I made it!
Yay…………
________________
One may often wonder about that …
How do you explain it?
To demonstrate an accurate version of it.
What general perceptions exist about the Crazies? Stereotypes?
Well lots of those exist.
They’re really popular.
Dynamite stuff.