snow me over a lather of denial

There is always me and my mindbodyspirit. The spirit cannot be touched nor seen, yet is the cornerstone of the experiment that is me... this truth left the subunified districting in the hands of the mindbody to battle it out for supremacy. The mindbody was not unlike (me) at all, and so much the same it made my mind a furious, raging llama, so furious I decided one day to call the stumbling, hulking mass of idiot flesh and networks of tubes full of bloody hell, something other than what it truly was. A vivid space I typed between the subunified essence of me, smiling when the typewriter rang its little bell. The angels are calling, the angels are calling! The message is here.

A pond of correction fluid grew larger as time (another construct of mind yet several epochs before, the mind says with conviction) went on. The result was the contemptuous subdistricting between which a fence then wall was constructed to keep the obviously related, deep-rooted elements, superficially apart. The divisions grew stronger and the roots were cut off, and soon the sea of humanity institutionalized the damn thing. Children like me were encouraged at a terribly young age (despite our knowing better) about the mind and the body, distinct from the spirit. Groupings of disparate parts could then be made possible for the sake of fun and games. Mindbody. Mind-body-spirit. Psychosocial. Bio-psycho-social-spiritual. Each part could be ritually washed and cleaned and manipulated per se.

My mind had me over the ropes, snowed over a lather of denial, in a plate glass window of time. It was truly obscene! Which I only realized when I finally woke up to the truth.

conditions on earth

On the one extreme there were those who were dangerous and knew they were dangerous, just like in the wild, and embraced it, and even decided that society and law ought to have its face put in the dirt and extinguished, and so went beyond what was natural (hunting for survival) and went on a violent tear for assertion. On the other extreme were those who championed law to such an extent they would turn on their own family if the law demanded they do so, even if law was corrupt and nonsense. They believed in safety to a point where no one was any longer safe. In the middle somewhere was you and me, trying to keep a grip, hoping to survive, and letting our intuition guide us especially in places and times where reason alone did not suffice, when everyone seemed discouraged, and it could be said by measure of population on planet earth, we have outdone ourselves for sure.

journal #07.17.15

I had a technology crisis no more, all the broken pieces lay before me on the floor. i picked up the space bar which was pinned under what remained of my hard drive, and cut myself on a shattered screen. held to the light, the space bar had lost all its power, a sad shell of black plastic. i must have counted a hundred geometric shapes before i realized what a great day had arrived; i was finally free of technology. i walked outside and wondered what to do? then i saw you know who, yapping away on her cell, ha, what a waste of time.

yes, i was gonna be lost and disconnected like never before.

i would not know the weather before it happened. neither would i know the political climate in the country, whether Greece was bailed out again, or the latest on the Kardashians or the royal family or Hollywood, or any one of the wars being fought here, there, and everywhere. i would no longer be able to shop from home, socialize from home, work from home. i would not be able to fight my battles by text, or hide behind emails and instant messages.

yes, i was gonna be lost and disconnected like never before.

and i could not wait. no more 3D printing how i feel, no more facsimile of life. i was gonna be the real me in the real life, circa 1979, i was gonna be a child again and see the world through fresh and open eyes, i was gonna talk to everyone out standing on our feet, fight my fights in person, give them a taste of Katya Mills, rolling up my sleeves and fearlessly flaunting my personality.

we are gonna have a great time, you and me, no longer stashed away behind our technology. i sure hope you get this message. i know it was past tense, but it's a prediction for the future. i know the future is not here yet, and i am behind this keyboard projecting. i could not find any emoticons to describe how i feel about it, so i wonder if you understand? how will you get back to me? feel free to tweet me. i plan to turn my phone on in about 6 hours after it's charged. presuming my alarm clock wakes me up. we can meet somewhere, okay. did you google that cafe i was talking about? the one behind that classic old theatre you know the one we read about on wikipedia, very cool, but...

ummm, i know this sounds stupid but do you think it's really real?

mental. quattro (plus video)

He was showing me unconditional positive regard.
I was telling him all the ways and places I was scarred.
He was chewing on the fat of my tales.
I was eating all my fingernails.
He was redirecting me like a train conductor.
I saw red and charged like a bull.
He was charging me through the teeth.
Paid in full.

I was waxing poetic.
His thoughts told him I was pathetic.
I gussied up to him like a whore.
He had his back to the door.
I blasted him for offering me Prozac.
He looked at me like I was crazy.
Called me a fucking throwback.
Or was it the voices in my head?

I cut my wrists and put them in his face.
He let me bleed out. Unconditionally.
I paid to have his carpet cleaned.
To keep my credit clean.
He was showing me unconditional positive regard.

I asked for a cup of tea.
He fifty-one fiftied me.

I ran away before the sedation.
Into the flickering movie
of guided imagery.

He was golden showering me
with unconditional positive regard.
I had clearly drawn up my knees,
drawn up my guard.

He drew checks off my back account.
I drew pictures of infinity.
He rented Girl, Interrupted.
Then handled me with
more or less
care.

I was embryonic again.
Statuesque.
He wore a Buddha smile on his face.
I was unfashionably broke
and stressed.
Developmentally-challenged.
Locked up in chemical
arrest.

He poisoned me with
unconditional
positive
regard.