Sunday, April 20, 2008

Some reflections from the haf awake

I'm stuck in this box with an uncertain future at my doorstep. I look around at my reality - okay yea, it's all brain signals. I think to myself one day I can manually alter those signals and yea maybe if I meditate really really hard I can make batboy appear and it will take me off kicking and screaming into gothic Fantasia for an orgasmic good time or at least that flying machine of blasted future technology that I can pilot off into a heavy metal future among the stars. Meanwhile though I'll be in a catatonic schizophrenic state at some mental institute but I'll be perfectly content with that. Let my mind be separated from my physical body while it rests in a safe place where it can be abused by inefficient workers and forgotten by family but at least the gem, my mind intact. I can rest my mind and body for once and take blows and not even flinch.

But I confess that living in this world is so addictive. The fear makes it addictive. I ride my motorbike to and from school everyday thinking of the most horrific ways for me to get chucked off and my body ruined. Oh, that truck is speeding ... what if I lost control and went into its lane; okay these roads are slippery I wonder how destroyed I'd be if I slid going 60 around that corner. Shudder shudder shudder so I ride responsibly and curse at cars who tailgate me so I can ride to my doom. I'm addicted to this world, I don't want to be ruined damnit! And when I get to my destination, I hop off my potential death inducer and go about my day as if nothing was the matter because responsible brushes with death are addictive.

A childhood fantasy of mines was pretending I could turn into a veloceraptor. I'd flee into some steamy jungle and embrace the wildness inside my soul without the constriction of society. Or I would wonder how I could fight society in this monstrous state. They'd be afraid of me and I would see them as dangerous food. Incidentally someone made a short story about this in this book of dino short stories. I took that as a sign that I wasn't quite so alone in my desire. But see I was a tween emerging into adulthood looking for an identity and my most favored was the believer of an altered society. And now I feel like I am transforming into that beast. Not a bad thing but it's a frightening thing that at times has great fights in my mind with my family's desires for me and society's sway on my role in the world.

So living is addictive because I am transforming and not giving a damn but it is unsure and taxing and tiring because in the end it is either I am successful with my transformation and I escape in the jungle, or destroy the world; or, I am shot down and gutted like a carcass because I failed to find a way to live (I don't wanna live in harmony with this filth!). I just want my role in this world to be that wild energy sweeping through the most remote and desolate places in the human soul. So now I'm angry and I yell and curse "I'm not your slave"; or now I'm sad when things make me sad and I cry and slip into a mire instead of grinning and saying it's alright come stab my heart again you're making me feel better; and now I'm lusty and reserved and I when I select you I make it clear "I want you damnit! Don't you know I can't be denied or that you are in for so much trouble when I have you!"; and now I'm mean and bitchy and humble and nice rolled up into one shifty package of gratitude and fuck you. That tempting state of catatonic bliss ever creeps beyond my view to terrorize me in my moments of low down scariness. Nirvana is a catatonic schizophrenic's vision of paradise.

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