I remember when it was fuzzy. My imagination was formidable, my thoughts were dark, but never graphic.
Later, as my mind began to develop, I began to realize pictures were developing as well. Incomplete and scattered, there was definitely something there. Difficult to distinguish, as though a child had been given the camera; out of focus, subject matter seemed to be cut off, perhaps viewed from awkward angles.
My mind seems to have collected them for several years and one day haphazardly dumped them out all around me like a pile of puzzle pieces onto a mosaic floor.
Anxiety ensued, my perpetual state of bewilderment would commence.
Day after day, I spent overwhelmed; knowing I have to DO this life thing AND solve this puzzle. Alienated knowing that if I spoke of the puzzle I was certain to be cast out.
Over time it became part of my routine, sometimes there were days and weeks where I'd find myself sucked into the puzzle, especially once I learned to bring the like pieces to the table and group them to fit together. Now there are hundreds of thousands of small pictures, and still some fragments which are not complete. The big picture is nowhere near identifiable, though in some cases I am able to make out what the snapshots were of... Darker, thoughts; not unlike crime scene photos.
These photos get placed into a file and I return to the floor and bring more pieces to the table. It feels right, like I need to get it together, to organize these thoughts.
A metamorphosis occurred, or maybe I've simply unlocked the next stage in deciphering the enigma that is me. Whether I choose to actively participate or walk away from it, the transformations continue.
Those images in my head which were filed away are coming together on their own, they are evolving... I can start to see moving pictures, like a flip book. With that, a plot is beginning to emerge; sounds and aromas are entering into the background. I can't figure out if my senses are fueling my imagination or my mind is fueling my senses.
I fear what is to come when the movie is complete, wondering if it will ever be complete. Feeling driven that I must see it through to the bitter end. Perhaps what I fear is to become the panacea for all of my woes.
How Our Enemies Will Defeat Us:
Why is America the most obese society on earth? We are entitled and lazy, arrogant and demanding. We want more than we need, better than anyone else’s, and we want it faster! Which is true of man since the beginning of time; we’ve evolved… We’ve discovered ways to be more efficient, in turn we’ve become more lazy and complacent. Our government needed to be more efficient so that they would still make all the profits. There’s a price to be paid one way or another.
Our society teaches us to pay other people to do the jobs that we don’t want to do: Cleaning, Landscaping, Painting, Farming, and oh yeah, we don’t want to pay them much. People come in from other countries and live here together and pool their money so they can survive and it’s FAR better than where they came from. We call them animals and we bitch because they are taking our jobs. The truth is we ARE NOT willing to live like they live, we ARE NOT willing to work as hard as they do, and we ARE NOT willing to get paid what they get paid. Americans are spoiled and entitled. Jobs need to be done, what we can’t afford to do in-house, we simply outsource.
In America it’s all about smart this and HD that, Wii this and iThat. None of these gadgets are manufactured here; in fact almost nothing is manufactured here. So we are already giving millions of dollars to foreign countries that may or may not have our best interest at heart. We think because we have “trade agreements” they won’t attack us.
They are attacking us. We’re too fat, dumb, and happy to know it, but they are.
Who drives 10 miles to run 5 miles on a treadmill (designed in another country with parts from another country, assembled here) where we can listen to our foreign gadget play digital music and wear our brightly colored foreign-made name brand sneakers and grab a bucket of GMO take-out for the family on the way home?!? We are so lazy we need a phone that can do everything but wipe our ass for us. But we complain about privacy and pretend to worry about “big brother”. We haven’t got up to change a channel in 35 years and we wonder why our ass has worn a wider divot in the couch cushion.
We are addicted to instant gratification, our muscles are atrophied from lack of use, our necks are sore from texting and we have carpal tunnel from repetitive button pushing. We whine about the aches and pains, but we aren’t willing to actually do anything about it if it requires rigorous movement, exercise or further absence of our almighty convenience.
So we take a pill.
Another product not manufactured here. This pill is promised to take your pain away. Again, there is a price for everything. Oh, you’re suddenly feeling sad? Try this pill, it will alleviate the sadness, and this one is for the suicidal thoughts associated with taking the pill for sadness, and don’t worry if it gives you muscle pain we have another pain pill for that. Now your legs are restless and your mouth is dry? Take this, it may cause hallucinations, so don’t drink on it, you might have a psychotic episode, but if you do, we have the remedy for that as well.
“Oh so you’re addicted to the pills? The pharmaceutical company assured us they use only the finest opium from Afghanistan… I can’t see how that could happen, well since you’re addicted now, we aren’t going to give you anymore”.
Now you are physically withdrawing and the pain has taken over and you will do ANYTHING to get a pill. Word is they are $50 on the street; let’s find one or two… A couple days later you’re sick again, the pain is worse, let’s get 4 this time… now they are too expensive. The guy with the pills says, “hey, I can’t help you with those pills anymore, but give this a shot, you only need a tiny bit; I’ll let you try this bag for free”. Hello Heroin. The progression takes over like a rapidly multiplying parasitic infection.
Incidentally, middle school and high school kids aren’t just smoking pot anymore. It’s too hard to hide from parents who are well versed in 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and 90’s life. Heroin is cheaper and easier to get and to hide… It’s not just in the inner city, it’s everywhere… 14 year olds are giving birth to heroin addicted babies and those babies are being treated with phenobarbital. Once an addict, always an addict; there’s no cure, only treatment.
While one large portion of our Nation is distracted from reality by the most cutting edge gadget, system, game, or device and can’t fathom wasting the effort to walk across the street to a neighbor’s house for coffee; another portion of our Nation is systematically being taken out by a whole new ideal in chemical warfare… created and funded by terrorists, foreign and DOMESTIC.
As an American you have these rights:
If you don’t want to work, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to feel, you don’t have to, if you don’t want to try, you don’t have to.
In other countries; if you don’t work, you don’t eat.
If any of these other countries decided to attack us today do you think we the people would stand a chance?
Or would you go about your day with confidence, thinking, ‘that’s what the military is there for”? The very military who can’t get adequate care through the VA, the very soldiers who haven’t slept a solid night since their first deployment. The same military men and women treated with the same pills for sadness, and psychiatric issues and pain; becoming addicted themselves?
Perhaps another day with our heads in the sand will make it all go away and the internet will bring more celebrity gossip and grumpy cat meme’s with improved speed and bandwidth for us all.
Today was a good day. Work was good, and I got a super nice queen sized mattress and box spring from a very successful real estate broker in town via freecycle.
My friend Jim was kind enough to help me get it strapped to my roof and get it home in true southern redneck style... I think he doubted me for a minute, but it worked out and that's what matters.
The lady also threw in a set of nice silk sheets and a set of 1100 thread count luxury sheets too with 4 brand new pillows. Along with a brand new sponge mop, a dust mop, and a Swiffer... She has a small wicker dresser and a box of dishes she offered up as well. I will go over after work and pick the rest up tomorrow.
My new place is nearly furnished, I'll find a couch, maybe even a chair, a dining table, another dresser and a microwave over the course of the next few weeks I am sure. By then the OT will hit the bank and I will breathe easier.
I guess I've realized a few things in these past 11 months.
We all come with our own brand of crazy. Some brands just don't mix with others. I mean if your brand is Betty Crocker and mine is Duncan Hines, we can do alright, but if your brand is Borax, and mine is Clorox things could get toxic pretty quick. Come to think of it, if one of us is Frito Lay and the other is SC Johnson, we could be poisoning others without realizing it. Lots of unhealthy relationships infect the people we care about. We don't usually know until we've lost them completely.
Trojan and Lifestyles sounds safe enough, but a Devil Dog in your Depends could mess up your day. Lysol in your Lifestyles... Tabasco in your Tampax! Oh I see this is gonna be a LONG, sleepless night where my brain won't stop.
The moral of this unexpected blog post is:
It's OK that you're crazy, but beware of your brand!! Remember your first chemistry set, then remember your teens.
Just what the hell were you mixing in that motel bathtub with a canoe paddle?!?!
Think about that...