Natural Health.

This is what I do all day when I'm free at my new job. It's pretty nice:

#1
To be in a place of belonging
with stories in head of
alternate universes and
scattered stars and
snowdrift valleys and
cocoa fields of eccentricity

To feel stuck in a rut
when the stories around are
lifegiving forces and
shattered dreams and
starry eyes and
taxi cab crashes of memory

To feel lost in an open air void
out of the stories heard of
breathless adventures and
primal screams and
velveteen scars and
overworked schedules of fantasy

To feel trapped in a realm of liberty
with nothing but stories to write of
swashbuckling lives and
distancing wormholes and
lamenting planets and
omnipotent goddesses of yesteryear

Is like running in place with a dog at your heels
calling for help when there's no dial tone
praying for sun in a windowless room
telling a secret to a deaf and dumb priest
buying a gun to protect against fear
loving a man who loves only himself
no escaping acceptance today.


#2
The wordsmith carves languages
from faraway forges
delving into categories of -ations and -isms
so long forgotten had all others let them

of course there's no meaning
in letters we're stringing
acrimonious poses of grand eloquations
magnanimous spoutings for mind segregation

the way of the future
is telepathy dreaming
pass away to a -verse with no communication

bending waves in personal space
the lone intervention
no "man", no "woman",
only feeling; emotion

can't hide if it's quiet
or in the death knell of the streets
can't keep hidden if there's nothing
no separation of mind
between waking, dreaming, and speech


#3
Identity seeking
when there's no such thing
in a world keeps on turning without you
out of touch
out of class
out of sight
out of mind
out of style
for a while?

Stop, look, and listen
to what has been missing
from the world that was built up around you
running free
running blind
running scared
running circles
running home
but home's alone
don't you see?

A Billie Holiday.

Woke up late
wrong side of bed
been here before
unfinished dreams scream in my head;

Grey in the sky
blues in my mind
can't stop this flood
falling harder than rains outside;

Know what this is
I'm skipping class
the best excuse
shooting head pain like shards of glass;

Someone broke in
he stole my heart
can't go there now
too much to change, time to restart;

As seasons chill
processes slow
cold presses in
comfort slips in blankets of snow;

I'll nap right now
no, tomorrow
can't ever sleep
don't you get it? This time's borrowed--

Just like our thoughts
just like our bones
just like our breath
we rent this space, it's not to own.

To make the most
of what is Real
explore all things
don't be afraid to fail and feel.

Dr. Seuss Space
Billie's Blues Show
Multitask Class
With some guidance--where'd the pain go?

I Gross, Therefore I Am.

Demon slayed!

No hospital visit is normal, I suppose. This one was replete with questions:

1. Are you still Methodist? "What in the world?" I thought. Don't catch me off guard like that. "Why? Do you think I'm going to die?" I said at 6:30am to the groggy receptionist. "I can put 'none'," she said. I said okay.

2. Why are you considering putting me under anesthesia when there's an active Code Red fire search going on? Shrill alarms, white lights, security guards, police officers, and firemen swarming the surgical prep room, while I sit on the bed naked in an oversized backless hospital gown with an IV in my wrist. Good thing I'm not prone to panic attacks.

3. What do you mean I might have to come in for a 2nd surgery if the 'walls' of the hematoma don't collapse in on themselves? It took me 7 months to come around the1st time. Can't you just fix it now? Luckily, he did. A more extensive procedure, yes, but guess what? I'm all scraped out!

4. Have you ever thought about why they call it "prone position" when you're lying on your stomach? "Prone to what?" I asked the surgical nurses. "To wandering eyes? To death? To anal assault?" Funny enough, that's the last thing I remember, in combination with one woman dodging my question by telling me how pretty the tattoo on my shoulder blade is. Then I passed out.

5. Who are the little elves I saw while I was unconscious? The gnome-like elves I saw are also referred to as "self-transforming machine elves," "fractal elves," or simply "machine elves" in the world of dream study. During near-death experiences, these elves come out to tell you to watch and follow them. Sometimes this results in the dreamer speaking in tongues (glossolalia) and singing. At the end of the experience (i.e. death, or coming back to life), the elves are known to move away from your realm of vision, wave, and say, "Deja vu! Deja vu!" Whoa.

6. Why does anyone think it's a good idea to abuse Percocet? Upon my arrival home, the pain was so bad (Thanks, South Jersey potholes!) that I immediately popped two. At first, I felt silly and happy, with almost no pain and a feeling that I was like a Gumby character. An hour later, I hit the height of it's power: I didn't know whether I was going to sweat to death, pee my pants, or throw up. My eyes started closing involuntarily, I started losing consciousness as I crawled up the stairs to my bed, and I flopped down in prone position as I passed out--half expecting to see those elves again. Instead, I heard a loud, high-pitched ringing all around me and saw dull-colored plaid stripes behind my eyes, followed by everything slipping into white noise and snowflakes. I passed out cold for almost 6 hours. Never again, Percocet. Never again.

*****

Luckily, I seem to be healing really well. I'm confined to taking the bus for the next week because I have a row of stitches and a stupid fluid drain attached to the incision (I thought you'd like more butt pics--for the furthering of science and senses of humor everywhere, of course.).

All in all, I'm really glad I had this experience. Different states of consciousness, a reinforcement that I never want to be an unhealthy person, and a profound respect for people who have to walk around with colostomy bags and other such external receptacles to hold their insides on their outsides (like my mother, or my best friend's dad, or a little Sierra Leonean boy, Musa, who graced my life in 2008).

I dreamed that I was on a bicycle last night, and I didn't fall off. I love my bicycle. We've made peace since the infamous accident. I just hope it doesn't forget me while I heal.