flagrant disregard

though hypnagogic, i maneuvered american monstrosity through the grey while continuing through the smog to press on the nut case. three percent of this mess wrestled the possibility of zipping up jungle luggage and slamming the trunk, but why waste ink manipulating a passport stamp into a license for life? to encounter travelers in search of their own stories while i assert awareness and state a simple reluctance to take on paint? no, i would rather not.

standing, somewhat swaying in his blue space with eyes closed, i pinched the skin on my forearm amid the scent of resident doctor #4's antiperspirant and never felt like such dreck.

"are those burns," he asked, nodding, when i changed position and my fingers accidentally went uncovered by cloth.

oh, really now, what does he care?

- lived through a predictable session of food reversal
- watched the allergic reaction exchange itchy body for sink
AND considered how i would live through the night.

if i live though tomorrow-- this answer will never end.

resident doctor #4 once said:
"i don't know what to say about the vomiting."
"you get so much insight out of it."

i think:
AND you probably haven't thrown up since the vodka of '94.
AND the vodka of '94 isn't quite like puking to manage allergy.
- nor is the vodka of '94 similar to arch enemy BACKWARDS HABIT.
AND purging intolerances to these excipients caused three weeks of wound.
AND i hurt.
AND the body never lies.

consider: in the blacklight, that lure... take the bait.
consider: how not to dream of anything other than whitelight?

consider: monday, fun day.
flagrant says: "i hate the day one."
- charting the fasting on a calendar of black or red X.
AND a cycle of REX forcing the water torture begins here.

sunken blackened cheeks and double takes/ the strengthening of each end in this splitting apart/ suspension/ what's the point in tormenting the 2am junkies/ why cry out of my left eye for the nothing to do/ good goes to the good/ the bad looks toward the bizarre.

do people operate on anything other than fear or greed?

rule #490: you are not allowed to change your mind.

the professor i had a problem with -- the only one i have mentioned in regard to education -- the professor who excited me to become a blogging jackass where i now begin many sentences with the word AND -- had some type of change of heart (or physical threat made against her) and has rounded every student's grade to the next highest 10%. how badly did the other students do to warrant this sweeping upgrade? AND, more importantly, how will my 110% translate on paper?

it won't
AND i will get fucked
AND when i do get fucked
i will fuck back.

AND why do i get fucked?
what did i fucking do?
i did what was fucking expected.

fi uoy t'nod teg tiderc rof tahw uoy od, tahw od uoy od? i t'nod nwo na exa tub dnuof a rabworc yadretsey. spahrep nod a sserd dna kool suoregnad? hgis.

DEATH is in the air.

why live where flashes of light only mean brightness rather than a creativity?
how to want to live in the vicinity of people who only breeze?

lesson #1: don't fuck with the mentally ill.
lesson #2: don't fuck with the mentally ill on a bad day.
lesson #3: every day is a bad day for the mentally ill.

third of three final exams today/ one last chance to break out and try to fail/ a farewell to the challenge of touching the sloth/ "don't you dare"/ said REX in the form of anorexic life force/ "first purposely fail at the non-important, then perhaps you will fail at the important"/ i agree/ AND will not/ AND did not/ AND the test is over/ AND all class sessions are complete/ dead and ended/ accomplished/ scored a perfect 100% of all acquired points in each enrolled course/ i win/ i am best/ suddenly best equals fat/ a fatness realized in a realm of excess/ too much/ too everything/ but wait/ had i lost i'd be.../ "had you lost you'd be fat, useless, worthless, and have wasted money, time, people's thoughts, and space"/ REX said/ "it'd be much worse as you would experience multiple hungers next week"/ REX smiles/ "had you lost i would finally kill you"/ additional difficulties tonight/ aside from being the thinnest person facing fat punishment/ "there can be no extra credit"/ said dumbass professor/ "had one student not scored 100% of the available points..."/ dumbass professor continued/ "extra credit would have been a consideration"/ damn straight but i hold two signs and the other reads ohmygod shut up don't blame me for the grades they chose to earn/ OUCH/ OUCH/ OUCH/ fat/ fat/ fat/ i destroy hope/ specific class simply involved the taking in and then spitting back that which was fed/ nightly practice/ impossible to forget/ impractical to fail at their version/ A on paper = F on project/ two breaths/ first/ i ruined lives/ second/ they say i win/ it's no secret i lost.

on the bookshelf:
- a case of unexplained lows
- the complication no one talks about
- the ongoing fight

the cards say: "it's getting weird again."

consider: the perennial answer to everydamnthing.

inside the car wash yesterday
a white car in front of mine stalled at the exit.
machines were angry, shaking
sounds of DEATH splattered for over ten minutes...
AND i was trapped inside under the cascading blood.

i drove downtown.
resident doctor #4 asked, “how are you?”
i said, “fine.”

we walked into our blue space.
he said, “sit?”
i asked, “what’s this white dust on the chair?”
he said, “plaster.”
i said, “alright.”

[it was here i noticed how i forgot to scrub with bleach]

thoughts of much farther away:
dog bitten stranger said, “your car is very dusty.”
i thought, ‘your center of gravity is extremely low.’
i said, “the sun is out.”
she thought, ‘retard.’
i thought, ‘genius.’

the taste of blood is almost thirty years old
AND it was life rather than limb or a car wash.
today it was DEATH and $4.99.

AND i realized i had been reciting the week.
electricity was too loud and had paralyzed LIFEBOX
at 119’F, one needs to swim through the ordeal.
tragically, LIFEBOX never reached the other side.
how to reveal a major event, which wasn't?

resident doctor #4 whispered, “disconnected...?”

the radio claimed 119’F but the paper showed 108’F.
that invisible hum- a true intensity or false?
he said, “it’s not valid if it’s not written down?”

he said, “if not articulated it’s not a real experience?”
he said, “ah! if not made clear, your personal experiences are invalid.”

we have one winner
AND one lame therapeutic metaphor hitting on splitting
AND--
well, did you catch that? i was sitting there.

just be happy with the A/ thought some loser/ probably not capable of realizing that voxel of complacency illustrates this disdain/ the never received shrug shows you haven't ever ranked/ surrounded by people who suck so badly that/ first/ they don't even know they suck/ and second/ they could not understand the concept in placing ridiculous rules/ restrictions/ on their lives to keep themselves out of the sky.

consider:
getting mentally fucked with a symbolic F burns how many calories?

AND tonight's 100% means a 100% for the course.
AND people will applaud the grade.
AND i will claim catastrophic failure.
AND offer no other information.
AND people will scrunch their faces.
AND i will continue to be confounding.

two calculators sit out on the desk and ridiculous values are being tapped into the machines. "okay, now try a zero. if i don't earn any points on this test whatsoever, what average will i end up with? what is the final grade?" this is so stupid- in what world am i going to score a zero on anything except a calorie counter? the first of three final exams is scheduled to start a few minutes from now. after calculating all of the possibilities, allowing for random oddness, and reconstructing an incorrect definition of karma, it is clear that i can only earn an A in this particular class.

the insanity is how the anxiety remains on high. how does this work? the confirmations of checking and rechecking the calculations should function to turn it off. if that doesn't work, why doesn't 'acknowledging that i have all confirmations' and 'i know the stress is useless' shut anxiety off? i am obsessed with grading but another spectrum of anxiety stems from failing an alternative goal.

consider: A in courses = F in managing anxiety
consider: C in courses = A in managing anxiety
problem: A in courses + A in managing anxiety = impossible

note: i refuse to ever accept a C on a transcript.

problem: i cannot blow off this symbolic F in anxiety.
consider: well then... at least accept the conflict.

there is no utopian yellow warning strip on the file of my life stating how extremely important it is to try to slack off. strive for the C. it was considered but i didn’t even try. nothing will translate this horrible A into the F it represents, but... phew. i'm glad to have succeeded where it was important (in public) rather than accomplish the meaningless (in private) and then forever think a therapeutic C needs explanation. my entire body and philosophy is based on evaluation. why would i tolerate a C just to earn an A in a game no one else was playing? i understand the alternative venue directs my health, but it is only slightly bothersome how it still holds no weight.

>> Will you detail what happened, process-wise, after you sent the letter of
interest regarding the experiment with the hybrid?

i would refuse to spend time detailing my own approach unless questioned by someone with a resume which qualified for a grant application-- and i would never discuss this with someone desperate for the actual funds over the benefits brought on by the corporate adoption and direction. i receive many questions from unsophisticated people who think they can "just apply for a grant and receive free money" not quite ever having considered that a grant is a JOB which brings with it weekly verifications of expenses and constant fine-tooth evaluations of one's production. my inbox reeks of "with a grant, i could buy ________" rather than "a grand from this company could help me finance ______, and in turn i could supply them with _______."

my parents have been dead for over five weeks.
and i don't know where the metaphor is in that statement.
and i just know they died and cannot be identified.
and that is why no authority has contacted me about it.
and my brother would never inform anyone.
and he has used this time to strip their home of valuables.

ocd says: "i warned you about ignoring important rituals!"

and i keep panicking about these stupid stupid stupid thoughts.
and confirming death is worse than enduring stupid thoughts.
and stupid thoughts wouldn't matter except my actions killed people.

ocd had said: "don't do [x] because your parents will die."
and i was healthy.
and i broke out of ocd and did [x] instead of avoiding [x].
and the next day my parents vanished from the face of the earth.

and i deserved a gold star.
and instead i get fed guilt.
and enter: THE DOOM.
and classes are ending soon so THE DOOM is apt to intensify.
and what am i going to do in august aside from arrange burials?
and can 10 additional credits this summer refract the pain of patricide?
and it's not good for me to be around just me all of the time.

and how exasperating is this when considering the odds?
and what happens when it turns out to be true?
and how could a compassionate person ever get over it?
and do i then give in to ocd and tap/tap recheck tap/tap as profession?

resident doctor #4: "you could figure out how to use that power."
me: "i could kill my grandmother!"
me: "i keep a dumb figurine from her that i don’t want...”
me: “she'll die if i throw it out."

and it's all very funny.
and it's all very electric.
and following the rituals of ocd keeps nothing but the rituals safe.
but, what if it really was the wrong day to break the superstition?

another pre-dawn bike ride. another maniacal day trading session. another new swing trading stock to adore. another exam. another 100%. another F in mental health. another voice in the fog. another can i get a ride home from work later? another i really should stay home today since i look like sick crap. another wince before opening the door. another upgrade. another flight. another nasty rental car. another untouched alcoholic lunch. another contract tweaked. another unacceptable inquiry. another please reconsider. another using myflagrant LIFEBOX to promote ______ will harm an already fragile population. another delivered basket of luxurious baubles as bribes? another upgrade. another flight. another jackball seatmate who wants to know. another tedious ground stop. another swish of mineral water in a glass. another business card flaunting board certification and private practice. another secret oh god, hell no. another squint-into-the-sun 405/101 fucked up freeway interchange drive-time fight to get home. another walk. another pint of loompafruits. another late night bike ride. another leaf blower tuesday.

it has been a difficult week. yesterday, i drove downtown to see resident doctor #4 and carried along all of the marks to harm. "how long has it been this bad," he asked as soon as the door closed off the clinic. my defeated answer was read from a convoluted playbook and sounded grave. how to follow the rules when half are ALL but the others only embarrassing? how to hang the week when days are divisible by rituals but anorexia demands a charted commitment and signature? "the count is down," REX had said. this mark and that mark... resident doctor #4 sat quite near. i then watched him swallow the marks on my toes and though he didn't touch, did hold on to me for a very long time.

re: the idiots in one particular online class i take...

so what if this attempt is personally motivated??
why reject it as a simple undergraduate course offering?
i expect a lot more from people.

the fourth week of the term has just begun. there have been numerous assignments and two comprehensive online exams. i don't appreciate the busywork, but this class follows a condensed summer study session, and therefore only two weeks of subject remain.

today, our professor sent out a collective e-mail stating what the syllabus has already covered: 1) pay attention to the fact our online course is not running on pacific standard time, 2) do not wait until the last hour of a scheduled testing date to log on and complete any exam (as anything is possible with murphy's law- from computer failures and blackouts to emergencies of various types), and 3) there will be absolutely no retesting unless a student missing an exam had been admitted to a hospital and can produce the actual inventoried hospital bill. there are no surprises here. this is all standard fare.

consider: how many students screwed themselves over on the last exam? would it merely take two benchwarmers to provoke this warning from our professor, or do you think it required more failures than that? i am longing for the days before privacy when lists of student identification numbers and the corresponding grades were allowed to be posted on the walls of university offices. where does the average point accumulation in this class fall ? it’s killing me. if i play, then i refuse to do anything except win, and am therefore screaming to know who (and how far down) ranks as second best. such are the problems of an online class- one cannot see the looks on other people’s faces when they receive their grades.

one of the points of enrolling this summer was to replace the stress of transition, knowing all of the while that the returned course work related anxiety was true, but it would be meaningless. how easy- these simple fillers would act as a preoccupation and there would be no real concerns of evaluation or completion.

[i said.]

the online grade books have perpetuated more nerves than ever imagined. they only show points a student can lose- and how does one not get caught up the psychology of the format? it's completely nuts. all of my numbers line up in each cell on the screen and after looking at those grades for awhile, they start to bend like an optical illusion. i keep thinking if i could purposely make one mistake in one class, perhaps the rush would end.

three hours of gastrointestinal distress works to confirm test anxiety, and this is accepted as normal for me, but spasms should neither be welcome nor necessary in these 'recreational' credits. tension is waiting for a promised allowance to slack off, but fears driving the fretting are not designed to adhere to a logical route. strive for the c and learn to let go- this is a perfect opportunity and i cannot do it. i cannot back off of perfection without retreating in total. how is it other people are comfortable in signing their name to the incomplete, incorrect, or unconfirmed? why allow oneself to be mediocre in anything, let alone in a domain with a transcript?

consider the possibilities in setting myself up to get docked one point: 1) no one would know that the mistake was done on purpose and had functioned to challenge something outside of the class, 2) what if i had been incorrect somewhere on the assignment and my ‘one wrong’ was then actually ‘two wrong,’ 3) a loss of a point would elevate anxiety rather than shut it down, as the insistence to be 100% the rest of the term would be even stronger than it is now. one point down is technically still an A but an A should be perfect. whether or not professors or universities subscribe to the idea, earning only 99% is not an A. everyone knows 99% is an A-.

consider: if... which class to self injure?
consider: entertaining this idea is distracting from what?

the summer transition with ucla and resident doctor #4 is complete, and since the anxiety offered by classes is no longer needed, i am torn between following through to finals or just quitting. with such a short term, the deadline to request a withdrawal without penalty passed by the second week. do i continue for the A’s and keep the unnecessary worries, or refrain from further work and accept the F’s? if one doesn’t submit work and receives an F, fine. no effort and nothing obtained- this computes. if one completes a class and yet only earns an A minus through a D minus, the complete range of failure, well, what a tremendous embarrassment! how could the A minus find a reason to continue if obviously not on par in anything other than disorganization? oh, typical me, reciting the poetry of black and white thinking. gather around all, and be amazed at how one side cannot comprehend what the other side is doing. i could embrace an F but… not in the reality found offline.

whatever i choose to do, and i think it’s clear, these courses have functioned to outline concrete definitions of anxiety disorder and the reactions which come with it. they have served much more than just banal words printed on cheaply produced textbooks. the subjects are completely useless to my future, but the experience has already been worth the price of tuition.

the cards say: "...is finally headed into a correction..."

recently i took an allergic reaction to an emergency room, and the staff were all in agreement that i should try to mechanically expel the intolerance from my body rather than medicate that which could last a few days. whether or not i have true gastroparesis is unclear, and since my upgraded insurance coverage just began, an examination has not yet been scheduled.

gastroparesis, a side effect of long term anorexia nervosa, defines a stomach with partial or total loss of movement or sensation. in short, any food eaten can take days to leave my stomach. what would it mean if the offending allergen would have remained an undigested poison had i not been sick that night? agony, mental distress, itchy rash, trichotillomania-- many undesirable side effects.

the point of this post is how it was too weird to suggest this great evil of forcing a purge was actually the lesser of the two, in that it was not born out of an ill behavior. why deal with a paralyzed stomach problem when this sick action could help a lot? well, there are historical reasons i should not make myself sick, but... the most important is the consideration that vomiting may excite something which is being held into place.

i think in forcing out the offending food allergy the other night, it broke open a wound of physical sensations, and not lacerations or the like. by preparing for grit and mental toughness, tics and uncomfortable contractions stemming from the reaction had been ignored but the body is finally getting to me right now.

food obtained tonight fit all nutritive rules of calories and content, so mental conflictions with the nourishment do not exist beyond the norm, but i feel triggered in every physical direction. the eating disorder tries to plant the idea of an allowance, here is a free chance to throw up and be comfortable, but there is no desire to be sick. the selection was tiny and nutritionally valuable. this somewhat safe food is sitting on something very painful.

yesterday afternoon a guy interrupted my path to ask if i was a going to be a sophomore at his high school this fall. it is common for people in their very early 20's to ask me out, but this query caused an interesting derailment, and i chose to drift off into the range of reflection.

- body image v. its projection
- how are people translating my non-verbal communication?
- default to positive reinforcement, give points to anorexia?
- should this evaluation offer a kooky allowance of esteem?
- will it function later as a loss?
- what have i done to myself, and what is it for?

the concealed maelstrom ranks higher and erases the superfluous- specifics of the person did not even materialize until later in the evening. a 15 year old guy talking to a bemused, but quiet 15 year old girl- in saying nothing, i must have communicated much more than was ever intended.

it is essential to push back the creeping motivity of agoraphobia on a daily basis/ know i should be obtaining 100% of my own food/ independently/ rather than allowing Someone Else to take the fall/ how to pick/ bag and wrap/ never a trader joe's/ neither lassen's/ nor the isla vista food co-op/ AND what else shines aside from stalking organic criticism toward whole paycheck foods.

DO NOT want to leave the house/ AND/ DO NOT want to get out of the car/ AND/ The Rule states: NO grocery stores, convenience stores, farmer's markets, vending machines, or shopping lists allowed while holding the anorexic title/ DO NOT want any occurrence of food unit/ any mention of food, and that which is related to food, offends anorexia/ no dinner plates/ the word "salad" suggests the horror of an assortment of foods/ no appliances/ fruit is incomprehensible/ nothing superfluous/ never a vegetable/ pray the water is crystal clear.

lettuce offends anorexia/ can somewhat succeed by functioning in the leeway of its lunacy/ The Rule states: must restrict liquids/ The Rule states: must always refrain from all diet soda/ The Rule states: must even restrict foods listing zero calories/ The Rule states: NOTHING taken by mouth at a rate of none of the time sounds lovely/ perpetuality/ The Goal.

consider/ if the only option for DAILY LIFE calls for NOTHING at none of the time then the last drink may as well be lethal/ consider drano liquid/ consider it sipped from a simple but formal crystal water goblet/ The Goal gone wrong/ upgrade to NOTHING at most of the time while manipulating metabolism to turn LIFEBOX into a magnificent wrinkle-free shrinkidink.

consider how there is no benefit in reflecting towards sugary days of childhood as anorexia was documented when i turned four years old/ Rule: live on air and never complain/ not complaining/ only questioning while enjoying the oxygen/ there is no desire to continue with the food forward trick forever/ it has its use/ rationalizing/ perhaps i could attempt a daily food forward diet plan for a determined amount of time/ must also allow for water fasting/ water torture/ food as medicine/ stable/ regiment/ digestion smells of health unless you've met REX/ my anorexia is a he/ AND he's crafty/ consider the planning/ the safety of a bookmarked period of time/ the thermic effect of food/ subsequent soaring basal metabolic rate/ it's all good/ restricting/ it's all bad/ it keeps me alive/ depends on perspective/ optical diagnostics/ the vanishing point/ facts can be a deadly weapon/ as can food/ facts can be a tool/ as can food/ good is bad/ bad is... neurolinguistic programming.

my digestive system might be shot/ consider/ malnutrition/ consider/ signs and symptoms of gastroparesis summon the seventeenth diagnosis/ recently researched digestive system restructuring/ do not want eating disordered life to further compromise physical health/ previous fragment differs substantially from 'do not mind death from anorexia nervosa'/ broken life/ consider the benefit/ broken death/ computes.

digestive and gastrointestinal disorders are not glamorous topics/ lack of contraction/ no surgery/ Rule: no scars allowed on LIFEBOX/ all scarring must remain internal/ consider/ must improve digestion but must not offend REX/ must not excite REX/ impossible/ the gastroparesis diet plans state what anorectic patients should never hear/ "adhere to ridiculously reduced but temporary dietary changes"/ start slow/ "begin by eating five saltine crackers and perhaps drink a diet soda"/ "start this food plan at two, then continue to three times per day"/ the gastroparesis food plan is quite a sick joke but i WANT to savor the humor, sodium content, and risk/ consider how... if REX got bashed over the head with a salty cracker, DEATH would grant us all one blistering week in the red before pulling LIFEBOX under the bed.

consider the nutrition needed to facilitate digestion/ consider scheduling an appointment with the cereal box dietitian/ cereal box dietitian is a quaker oatmeal spokeshole who heralds eating ten billion calories to maintain health/ merry mary is obviously not an md/ joke: famous cereal box dietitian must have not seen famous television commercial promoting one bowl of total whole grain cereal instead of 30 bowls of that quaker oatmeal wholesomeness she peddles/ resident doctor #4 insists that i "should never begin the refeeding process by eating a full meal as it will definitely throw phosphorus and sodium out of range"/ refeeding syndrome/ ummm, resident doctor #4.../ ummm, guy.../ what obscene world do you live in?/ the other side of his mouth pronounced a sentence which sounded like "unlimited calories are available to you"/ consider my current state of philosphy and wonder why he is bothering to talk.

my extremities are swollen due to electrolyte imbalances related to tomato and weather/ it's disturbed/ it's terror/ thinness is measured by cephalic vein/ ankle edema/ and mirror/ consider/ inevitable food intolerance to the gastroparesis food plan of packaged saltine crackers/ saltine crackers were once a popular prohibition era food/ computes/ prohibit and food were in the same sentence/ rhyme/ reason/ saltines must now be a prohibited food.

experienced a bad allergic reaction to diet black cherry vanilla coke late last night/ or was this punishment for breaking The Rule/ refused the calm/ the diphenhydramine/ AND suffered a double punishment/ Rule: no h1 or h2 receptor antagonist related chaos in this LIFEBOX/ nuh-uh, no nystagmus allowed/ consider/ any dilated pupils without a related excitement would not compute/ Rule: keep the central nervous system tight/ i diluted the diet soda ailment with a few cups of water and threw it all up/ vapid liquid plastic/ negligible calories/ lacked discernible carbohydrates/ no chains of chemistry to clean/ neither dissociation nor food abuse/ debated whether needing to compartmentalize the purging of allergic reaction from the behavior-driven (former) blog character known as BACKWARDS HABIT/ figured i must/ it functioned as a cure/ instant/ cheaper than an emergency room visit/ was drug free/ worried it appeared to serve as reinforcement for 'lack of character' rather than 'lack of blog character'/ but no/ not at all.

all things chuck are coming to a close/ yes/ i explained to him the desire to break apart our integrated lives/ do not want the job of managing his finances/ managing his DAILY LIFE/ do not want the anxiety/ without him this last year for me was fairly level/ consider the negatives/ the crap chuck brought into my life which caused difficulties/ his job loss/ lying about it/ not being eligible for unemployment insurance/ recent employment-related lawsuit/ his untreated depression and ocd behaviors/ consider how our friendship inhibits my relationships with other men/ chuck's general assholeness since his aneurysm// consider the positive/ chuck continued to manage the majority of my external communications over these last years/ comfort/ companionship/ the loss of my instant trapdoor/ conclusion/ i should and can do without it/ "you're causing me a great deal of pain," chuck said/ and then cried/ note/ this is the same guy who refuses to admit he cannot control his mouth during an argument/ now suddenly he tries to state he spits bilateral words/ this was another great day in my history/ i did not apply the brakes.

currently experiencing a screaming case of wonky omission/ eyes, fingers, toes/ from what/ who the hell knows/ i know i itch/ not interested in tightening up the fundamentals tonight/ consider/ excipient-related akathisia-like allergic reactions/ will not regret posting if wonky word experience finds its way to the blog/ will instead wince and one day accept the gravity of this footprint.

the lack of photos-- obviously i need to go out and purchase a new digital camera. the only good thing to come from near-dead electronics is that my vintage rolleiflex twin lens reflex camera has been getting a workout.

consideration had come around, but relaxed when anxiety lurched off to prepare for concerns of status and lost time. what i neglected to obessively negotiate beforehand now hurts. in shedding a university program where i fit an eager student's need, today, in the first private setting with (no longer resident) doctor #4, i am completely meaningless. i am a job. who likes their job? i am now equivalent to the shrill sound of an alarm clock ripping open a dream.

after our appointment, i had a panic attack while driving and the traffic forced me over to the wrong side of the 101 freeway- maneuvered to finally park the car somewhere on vermont over by tony pierce's house. i sat there for awhile, and wrote illegibly in a notebook until... until dark.

it's very important to prepare for everything in triplicate. how dare i try to give that up, due to another person's suggestion, to only experience sadness. i have already lived ten lifetimes of depression. if it takes living with anxiety 90% of life in an effort to try to counter all future bouts of disappointment, i can accept that.

the broken clock issue starts to sting and then gets cast aside due to the insight gained from its worthless years, but investigating concepts of have and take grant a lot of physical pain. on becoming a patient and keeping up the task will incorporate many considerations. i gave them all weight but tried not to obsess:

- deciding to continue with resident doctor #4.
- allowing myself to receive this care.

- the finances involved.
- deciding he is now a tool, a business i can pay for.
- or, as was the case this afternoon, concerns were in having adequate health insurance coverage yet resident doctor #4 scheduled our appointment where he was working for the day- at a no cost homeless health clinic. there are 'having/taking' issues of owning that time for free when someone else may have needed it more.

- taking visibility out of its box and into a new domain.

- leaving parts of illness behind at ucla.
- trying to not call for them catch up.

- second guessing traffic dynamics of the 101 through hollywood.
- new area of the city, new building, parking...
- much different demographic. (aids, addicts, homeless- not students)
- personal safety.
- the eyes in the waiting room rather than the back door approach.
- clearly having, not so much in the land of have not, but in the midst of people not organized enough to keep it all going…

- will our primary focus be generalized anxiety/depression?
- or will our primary focus be ptsd?
note: it cannot be anorexia.
- when will he offend anorexia again? i'm on guard since when it inevitably happens, it will feel like i am going to die until i can get through it. on account of that alone, perhaps i should stop going there! then again, if he ignores eating and restricting issues to only focus on therapeutic metaphor of REX as an all encompassing life force, anorexia will kill me.

- will [everything/anything] about this transition be devastating?

- celebrating, rather than stacking personal achievements.

- having to acknowledge the changing calendar.
- accepting that time did not stop for everyone.

extensive entries posted here about suicide and the DEATH metaphor/ years ago/ the writing details how imperative it would be for the contents of my life to be boxed up/ labeled and addressed in total before the final performance/ leave no mess/ leave no body/ consider/ the blood/ consider/ instead letting the fire dine at dinnertime/ first step/ remove clothing and fold appropriately/ no work/ no waste/ AND today I don’t know how to cast old intentions aside and allow myself to become someone else’s job.

[returned from central america: end of sandy weekend diversion.]

the cards say: "wee bit of patience..."

re: physicians and residents met during a recent emergency room visit.

if these professions act confident and try to take matters of my health into their own hands, it signals the alarm- the myth is destroyed and their efforts properly redirected. in doing so, it is impossible for me to just present the case. i conceal my experience, insist on teaching them how to think, and give them the workout they have been worrying about.

if a physician has a capacity to understand that anorexia's physical urgency is complicated with issues of receiving the care [taking, having, deserving], they request information directly and insist on my involvement. by action alone, this defines the type of person i could trust... and yet *i* can do nothing but slump in lost speech when faced with their unnecessary stutter. finally, an arena of competence and a chance to relax- but even upon confirmation, no one is ever confident enough to take the controls.

- body awareness is beginning to hit the mirror.
- i like the confirmation.
- i hate the sick feeling of wasted fear.
- how i have been using the word frightening a lot.

- how to want to rectify the bizarre?
- need? perhaps not.
- how to restore damaged health but let physicality sleep?

- how many broken pieces need to be held up?
- when to differentiate between broken and destroyed?

- the danger of living normally.
- go/do + driving + dehydration = physical problems, body must be dead

- a horrible trip to the urgent care center this week.
- let's keep it our little secret.
rule: there will be no delirious juice.

on the bookshelf:
- you don't have to leave him in the will
- lessons in electrocution
- breads of deprivation and affliction
- the biology of dread

- everything falls back into arrangement.
- neither flatness nor intensity.
- no reason for the scent of DEATH metaphor.

note: anorexia is the only force in the frame.
consider: passion.
translation: no misericord allowed, fasting continues.

the eating disorder is once again providing for insomnia but it is easy to deflect to biology as the invisible murmur keeping me in awareness. rushes of blood, depletion of imagery to whitelight, physical discomfort of bones through skin- these grindings function as a chronic tapping of night. if not the sounds of process and erosion, then look to evolution. essentially drained, the weakest of the herd can never relax. even with eyes closed, i am always ready for the hands to wrap around my throat.

consider: the sound of becoming prey.
consider: accidentally locking oneself in the house lived in.
consider: incomprehensible morsels in the dark.

consider: managing grit.
translation: it's no secret grit is DEATH.

[beach holiday: here i depart for central america]

...and what is it that i do for a living?
consider: people take work to a barbecue?

rule: work hard, play hard.
rule: keep mouth shut.
rule: compartmentalize.

consider: how to connect and amaze?
consider: how to stay on this side of protection?

- each endeavor is fully functioning.
- but too interesting, too out there.
- insist on using anorexia to counter that excess.

consider: why waste explanation on a hamburger flipper?

how to proceed with people who usually don't, but may actually matter?

a professor asked me to attend a fourth of july barbecue [fear: food, visibility, conversation] i know of no one else who would be there [important] or if he had said come to or come with [phone is dying] -- is it a lazy assembly of lighthearted playfulness [meaning: meaningless] relating many university souls [come alone, come together] or an intimate backyard thing involving stabby yet amusing relatives -- why wrestle with whether the party will be all sunburn and stench of weber grill or sommeliers with symphonic glass on this, the best summer day for panting dogs? casual or upscale- at a home in southern california, it may go either way.

REX says: "the stench of DEATH... the sloth... lounge..."
translation: the stench of grilling meat, visible relaxation.
consider: hefting that around.
flagrant thinks: the stench of stodge.

REX says: "that sound of people unsticking from plastic chairs..."
translation: REX romances flagrant.

consider: only offering enormous topics [recently awarded a huge corporate grant to experiment with tweaking hybrid efficiency, agreed to guest lecture again this fall, an upcoming jaunt to central america for two desperately required days of atmosphere] or supplying NOTHING, all of the time.

consider: AND the enormity of ________ distracts from __________?
translation: everything/NOTHING, NOTHING/everything.

consider: employing pause, working the neologism.
consider: the f word.
consider: flipping the switch and bringing the beer.

flagrant says: "AND on this dankless of days, i..."
consider: holding the constant (REX) while touching the hell (attendance).
translation: sure, why not?

note: online exam scheduled for this evening.
note: currently hold a 100% point accumulation in this class.
consider: maintain absolute perfection, maintain rigorous anxiety.

consider: exam, tangible rather than variable personal evaluation.
translation: mind/body + grade/weight = perfect/she's not my type

goal: to try to strive for the C.
consider: the stressless in between.
flagrant proclaims: "this is obviously not myflagrant idea."
consider: constant testing of multiple domains, education and health.

rule: can = do
problem: neither have read the textbook nor done the labs.
consider: solution at hand.

consider: getting a high enough F to average down to a C ?!?!
note: easy, the NOTHING.

consider: look at textbook, perform labs, assert and collect 100%.
note: easy, the ALL.

consider: striving for the C thus averaging a B ?!?!
note: difficult, unscripted, prohibited, preposterous.

consider: perhaps logging on to the exam without preparation?
note: would still test an infinitely important influence.

consider: how a C acts to oppose anorexia's deadly life force.
translation: a considerable achievement, C = A+
consider: explaining C has a numerical value of 4.33 to a registrar.

consider: doing what flagrants do best.
flagrant says: "shove it, resident doctor #4."
repeat: can = do
translation: there will be no documented C.

-- [later:] --

fact: i scored 100% on tonight's exam.
note: an A on the test = an F in mental health
consider: obtained the C?

monday = lettuce + one mustard packet
tuesday = lettuce + one mustard packet
wednesday = pint of loompafruits

thursday =
punishment due to inability to restrict lettuce and mustard packet

friday = pickle brine
saturday = lettuce + one mustard packet

sunday =
painful punishment due to inability to take previous punishment to heart

this, being the first policy day of my new and improved health insurance coverage, i damn near went to long's drugstore at 12:01am in an intended (but obviously never-to-be-noticed) statement of "ha, suckers!"

costco. instead i went to the costco pharmacy this morning and half stepped around people who cannot comprehend following my type of life force and rule system. AND damn it is always blistering hot in northridge. AND dammit world, full length mirrors need to come as standard issue. AND damn the people who refuse to control their perspiration in public. god, know enough to save it for the car!

prescription #1 = $1300 value for $30 copayment.
prescription #2 = $250 value for $30 copayment.
prescription #3 = $6 value for $6 in actual cost.

consider: various reasons to be, how i could never call out "fat."
i didn't mention the people (!) queuing (!) for samples (!) of palatable lard.
no sir, i am not having a problem with my own facts of late lunch.
i am not all vascular and uncomfortably bitchy right now.

consider: swallowing one of those pills.

oh, shut up.
this is what happens post chaos.
twig induction brings [not arrogance].

the marvel of gleaming glass marbles being harshly rattled around in a reflective coffee can seemed to invalidate the beauty of yesterday. depression carries the sharp stick, thus trounces over all elevated mood. needless to say, the afternoon was spent in a strange state of mourning. it felt as though my dog had died, and then someone immediately decided to replace him by dropping a spunky puppy into my lap.

[- something about getting the corporate nod goes here -]