where hypotheses come to die (madman101) wrote,
where hypotheses come to die
madman101

The Incompletors - Part One

Unsure when this was written - Well, as I slowly try to recover from relapse, my mind is trying together my thoughts, from present and past. My thoughts are gradually becoming three dimensional and far-flung, and yet are still fractured and incomplete.

I am not sure which trains of logic to follow, as I try to post my ideas to you - where might I encounter roadblocks, hills, rivers, trucks ramming into me, etc. I step uncertainly.

Unlike recent days, I find energy to write at length, but lack the ability to know where the dead ends might loom up, where I might be challenged to make turns, to struggle for memories or strained associations. If I follow one train, will I forget all my other thoughts, incompletely sewn into a better, more refined tapestry?

Meanwhile, my left hemisphere seeks to rise out of pain. Can it open up, look forward, breath, expand - or will the attempt shut it down, and thus invite another avalanche of anxiety and exhaustion from below? On the other side of my head, my right hemisphere is going through a similar journey, or struggle.

And they call across to each other, like two guys rummaging through opposite ends of a very large house, "What are you finding over THERE?" And such. But in the middle of the house, the Corpus Collossum, several workers are banging nails and running saws and drills and cleaning machines, and ya just want ta yell, "Hurry up and go on your lunch break for god's sake!"

These two guys, they're still not sure what they're looking for. They'd have a better idea, if their communications were better. So, they progress slowly, or not at all, they slip backwards, forwards. They have fear - fight-or-flight - trying to drive them from behind, and exciting, possibly destructive, risk-taking trying to motivate them ahead.

What risks? What are the risks? What is a risk? Perhaps all is reward? Perhaps all is punishment? Perhaps there is no future, as usual. Perhaps three more days of agony in hell. Perhaps the grasp of Satan will reach up from beneath the floorboards and grab me again - or you? Which is me and which is you? I don't know yet. I need to sort it all out.

But wouldn't it be best to lie down here and go back to sleep? God knows I need to.

Sleep - and lose an hour, two, all morning? And wake up to some looming tragedy again? Too tired to sleep, preferring fear, possibly anger, uncontrolled, clamouring for attention. No! Must push on!

Can't push or will collapse. Perhaps - can I dance? Can I sing? Perhaps - am I the true me who once was? So many years ago? What am I doing in this stupid fucking house?!!!

Yesterday, I thought I was ready. I finally jumped up, turned on some music, and began to negotiate small boxes of future. About five piles of important papers. That was too much for me. I couldn't figure out what was what. What were my priorities. What should be culled. What should be collated. Which should go in which box, what should share a box - which box? - what should I keep close at hand? Five simple piles of paper, and I was unable to deal with it.

What I could do was pretty much a little bit of separating junk: paper or plastic? Paper or plastic? And, then, the CFS destroyed me again, and the day was soon over. That's how my life is, most of the time. I simply cannot figure things out, even when I think the day is a good day.

Now, lest you be wondering, this is something very different to someone, say Sarah Palin, going from job to job, reaching for some regressing fruit of fame and glory - or someone so caught up in the abstractions of "success" or "moral correctness" or "appearing right" that they constantly break promises and contracts - indeed they may even blow up fucking buildings as they exit on to the next unsatisfying opportunity or victim - all for the power and the glory of SELF.

My Struggle is not the same thing as Mein Kamf. I am physically disabled by real actual NEEDS, not wants.

Most of America, on the other hand, is retarding itself by floundering in a sea of of insatiable WANTS, which it calls NEEDS - and America is trying to float by shoving all it's shit back to the people like me. Thinking how to make it stick. Believing their own lies like Repulicons in the debt debate.

Give money to the banksters, which doesn't satisfy a bubbli-con economy, then try to take away all the things that the vulnerable people ACTUALLY NEED. So, here begins a very interesting series indeed... Who knows when it might end.


How about this, from the right-wing blogosphere: Whereas the Norway bommer was a far-right-winger attacking a liberal youth camp, the bloggers are somehow saying he was a pro-Jihad who learned everything from the LEFT, and was attacking a nest of left-wing NAZI FASCISTS. Huh?! (Update: The rumours have transmogrified into, "He changed his Facebook from leftwing to rightwing!").

Up is down and down is up. We don't cause the violence, YOU do! We're cooperating, YOU'RE being irresponsible! The new econo-crash IS ALL YOUR FAULT, even though the Fed/bankster lobbyists are paying us off handsomely...

He says there are invisible "atoms" in the air! He's paranoid! Run away or he'll shoot us, AYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!

Yo - I just got a call on my answering machine, congratulating me cuz my sweeps entry won me some luxury car. That's amazing since I never enter sweeps.

So, I called them back and, of course, I got a recording, so I let them know they could reach me by calling a dif phone number.

I then left the number of the local POLICE. ha ha -

I suppose I did that cuz I got me some psychological problems. Like the lady who wants to grow veggies in her front yard. Shut up and eat your corn syrup. We don't have time for this. We're busy spending your money on building holes in Afghanistan.
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