. . . . . a lever falling into place as a switch, chaos & control resurgent, limitations between our understanding of one another; no one may know what kinds of conversations we have within, insofar as we even notice them — beyond and above, beneath and below, the biochemistry variance is infinite yet each one echoes each other infinitely across the interpersonal chasm.
Spinning across the many billions of forum posts and web pages, seeing what can be seen, digging through Wikipedia and Erowid.org and skimming into papers and abstracts, setting up a game of comparisons: observe this generic Nutri-Grain bar; what does it mean to you? Unhealthful candy poison? Or a way to keep up blood glucose on the go or when time and a wrecked kitchen do not permit cooking? Self-care is not about absolutism or asceticism or elimination of things.
Beyond the visions, beyond the codes and keys, beyond the viral slanders, beyond the mental logic bombs, beyond the lies in your heart, beyond the vanity of what’s expected, a still place opens up. Look for it near the dan-tien. No one listens but the butterfly of the crown, no one hears but you; stick by what you know about yourself & let none batter it without sanction. Tithing the spirits their due, there is trust in the unknown, there is trust in the flyest flow, there is trust in ancillary incidental minutiae, there is a light in the attic, an end to the sidewalk, a Lorax, a march hare, and a flotz who gobbles dots.
In the ends we bounce and bubble, in the ends we squawk and blither, at the dawn we spark and sparkle, at the moonrise incant and unwind, at the stillness, breaking open the head… The man of feathers is checked and balanced, the man of strings is unwound and unglued. While one to the others repetitively beat the drum, some to the one insisted on a pause. Exasperated, they wandered off, though soon to recheck and return . . . . .
1st draft posted 4/18/2017
Lost in Mist 