flagrant disregard

earlier in the month, i escorted three profoundly gifted students to a biodiversity expedition in central america, and have just recently returned to collect them. each child required strategic accommodation and attention en route, thus this international situation was ripe for disaster. nothing hapless flourished except for a depression found in the emptiness.


insect magnification for entomologist identification

the kids were neither achieving their best behavior ever, nor were they expected to do so. they knew that 'the rules' suggested they were to be inquisitive without incident. they also knew that if one were to make a scene which caused more than two strangers to stop and grant our group attention, they all would die. needless to say, they knew i was both kidding *and* serious. we had a great time.

where do i look to find availability which exceeds the grasp? other people herald this level of mentoring and responsibility on a resume, but i considered letting it go unmentioned on this blog.

two weekend trips to central america in under a month sparked what, aside from questioning the lure of heaven? nothing. this level is the least i do, and yet i either continue to represent myself much lower, or reduce any occupation by claiming i was filled with fear.

alongside the gorgeous pacific ocean, i rolled up my pants, and practiced depression like everywhere else-- either moped while skirting the foreign waters or walked right up to poke at the stingrays. the perennial is never predetermined but always equivalent when discovered in the opposite spectrum.

discarding portions of illness and 'gaining' a life continues to account for so much loss. i don't know how to stop thinking about that which was always there.

why do i feel as though i come across as [mean? arrogant? bad?] to see that my family members are genuinely well cared for instead of spoiled rotten? why does it seem that only spoiling [people in general] will win points? points, evaluation-- am i supposed to care about what other people think? even though i am not supposed to want to win my family's positive opinion, how can i choose to stop attending the thought?

by recently declaring myself accessible and approachable, i have opened myself up to welcome a larger 'aspect' of my family into my life. there should be no surprise that i refuse to deal with their prairie philosophy, but opening these lines of communication has allowed for their lack of discipline to instigate a few financial-related situations.

everyone needs money-- no, don't believe it. people who choose to overspend do not need to continually perpetuate this myth, so let's not waste any effort on eye rolling or the need for sighing. the frustration is how i am suddenly tormented by 'virtual strangers' who are expected to want and require, yet they simultaneously tell me that i am crazy to maintain the levels of life which allow for the generosity.

how can these people insult or 'write off' what i mold into the subjects of my life, and do this particular bashing while fighting to stand first in my bread line? it's the same tired story-- i own multiple foreign investment properties, and since they cannot fathom the undertaking, my accommodation and dedication is verbally invalidated.

the funny part is how this invalidation can take two courses. my international escapades will either be discounted into simplicity, and therefore, i should share the wealth; or, the establishment of my projects each stand at an unfathomable level of success, thus they must border on illegal activity.

consider: how difficult it could be for a person to admit to any element of astonishment, for it only focuses their own sad reality. of course no one would want to outwardly state the facts of their reduced capacity. not only does bewilderment speak of not being a viable competitor, but it reveals not knowing how to locate the tournament.

if what i can do or give to people is thought to be meaningless, then those people can supply similar for themselves, right?

here is an example of current hassle: i receive many 'holiday vouchers' worth thousands of dollars each, and they are to be redeemed on luxury resort accommodations or 'golf and spa' vacation packages. they are difficult to give away because most people have neither the time nor the flexibility, but i always offer. now, if a voucher was given to me in gratitude from a business, did i not earn this treat along the way? why should the fact that a voucher was free render the indulgence to either 'hold no value' or to *always* be ripe for donation? why is the 'weekend getaway' not seen as 'i was integral to a business project, worth well over and beyond what the corporation had budgeted, and therefore was paid with these perks?' another issue is how i travel incessantly for work. these go-go-go stressed out and transpacific weekends are misinterpreted as a vacation rather than what it is to the untraveled-- novelty. since i 'take so many vacations,' the vouchers must be meaningless to me.

neither resident doctor #4 nor i appreciate any opinion my family can offer. i am not supposed to hold their ideas to any level of importance, yet must accept that these relationships exist and pleasantries can occasionally be exchanged. i need to continue refusing to apologize for productive decisions, for striving toward good character, and for doing my part to define moral turpitude in whatever it is i do.

it feels wrong to tack a 'whatever' to the existence of family. it feels worse to think they are probably defining me as greedy when i still disregard my own needs and comfort.

so, this is how it has to be:
no energy toward the frustration of those people ever expensed.

consider: but how? how do you do that without guilt?

duck, or add to the mental muck:
- anorexia suggests november 15th will be 'day 11' of a water-only fast.
- LIFEBOX is craving whole grains and fred flintstone-sized servings of meat.
- eyesight is already disturbed and vision scattered from this morning's sprint.

the e-mail received from the farm yesterday proved highly amusing. there are certain aspects of greed which are known to run parallel to family dynamics and will never change. why bother to get upset or spend any energy crossing eyes? after dissecting the last portion of this letter (which mentioned i was expected to provide a pregnant sibling with luxurious vehicle, that is, award someone for fucking like a rabbit) i decided my mother must be clueless in regard to common or current price points.

consider: motherfigure is unaware that a fully outfitted BMW X5 with AWD falls around $70K? probably. motherfigure's area of nowheresville is not infiltrated with german imports.

there can be no way my mother is suggesting a BMW is to be a gift. i am desperately sifting through the rationalization process in search of something sane. perhaps she wanted me to locate the particular color and trim level in california or help facilitate the leasing process? my mother has never expressed interest in expensive vehicles. invalid friend chuck and i think she may have the deluded idea that an X5 could fall in the $32K range. in that case, and assuming the private party value of my sister's two current cars would offset some of the cost, helping purchase an X5 would not seem too ludicrous.


had this been a request for $70K worth of graduate school tuition, i would work day and night to get it done and then provide it without one bad look. there will be no response to a request for a new vehicle when a situation is adequate. updating transportation with that which will depreciate, only to travel along the same route, makes absolutely no sense. a vehicle does not change a situation. this purchase will not change the route of life.

AND it could worsen the situation. what is the insurance rating on this suv? how much does full coverage cost? is it nothing but obvious that the monthly premium would be monumental in comparison to the current cars owned?

consider the capacity and psychology in the chosen language:

"do you have any vacation vouchers you are not planning on using? are any for family friendly resorts in the caribbean? your sister could use and would really enjoy the opportunity to go."
v.
"your sister needs you to buy her a caribbean vacation."

it was all business related, but in the past i received a comical amount of 'thank you' vouchers for resort stays in tropical destinations. the joke is, who wouldn't give away a three night all inclusive stay at atlantis island resort? a weekend on grand cayman without comped diving expenses? no thanks. i had always suggested someone else use their allowance, but international trips prove impractical for a lot of people to organize on a whim. a free vacation sounds lovely, but not for those who need to work full time, lack vacation days at work, lack a flexible and cosmopolitan attitude, lack proper luggage, lack a reference for a pet sitter, etc... essentially, a free vacation could perpetuate quite an expense. so, based on history, asking me for a vacation isn't too ridiculous, but additional words would have been nice to eliminate the rudeness.

consider: perhaps, as in the past, family follows my actions revealed in press releases, and think they need to be financially rewarded for doing nothing but trying to relate themselves to me.

my dad is in surgery for ________.

who knows?
let's all guess.

consider motherfigure's previous ways of articulating bad news:

"your father is undergoing some tests" meant she was calling from a hospital waiting room and my father was on the operating table undergoing actual heart surgery.

"he's a little bruised up" referred to my brother's physical condition after he had been seriously injured during a motocross race.

motherfigure is employed in the medical field and never reveals an emotion. this is normal behavior. she always neglects to mention the specifics of a problem.

another cryptic e-mail has just now arrived from motherfigure. well, at least she is trying, right? this particular note suggested that my father's surgery had been rescheduled from an earlier date. apparently he needed to receive a cardiac-focused clearance consult from his cardiologist for this particular surgical procedure, but was in atrial fib at the time of that appointment.

does this pre-op clearance appointment suggest a level of severity? i don't know. my father had undergone coronary angioplasty many years ago. coronary angioplasty is a surgical procedure used to open up clogged arteries. often, a bare metal stent is implanted permanently via balloon catheter. this wire basically holds an artery open and reduces the chance of the artery 'renarrowing' over time. since the time my father had undergone the angioplasty, new drug-eluting stents have become available. these devices emit anti-clotting medicine right into the blood stream.

perhaps, in my father's case, this clearance consult was only procedure. either way, the nod was given to proceed with this current surgery after the results of an echocardiogram stress test evaluation were returned. this 'stress echo' combines an ultrasound with a traditional treadmill stress test, and though it does not provide images of coronary arteries, it does shows the area of the heart muscle which is not receiving an adequate blood supply.

i sit here and contemplate a telephone call, but also assume that motherfigure and father would still be at a hospital. which hospital? i should have asked the location-- the choice in hospital would have been an indication of severity. motherfigure refuses to carry a cellular phone-- no options are available but to disturb their house. my brother, always desperate to talk to me, would answer, hang on the phone but have nothing to say. yeah, that's never fun.

AND so i will send flowers and wait.

an e-mail just received from the farm:

- my mother passed out in a store
- my father is dying and having surgery this morning
- my father loves me
- my mother hit a deer with her new car last week (negligible damage)
- my father also hit a deer last week (front and side damage)
- my mother was the focus of a huge recognition dinner for work
- my "other brother darryl" is out back shooting 'the guns'



if that wasn't enough to choke on:

my older sister is pregnant and she needs me to buy her:
- a caribbean vacation at an all inclusive resort so she can rest
- BMW X5 AWD with the 4.8 liter engine in black
- one of those expensive baby jogger/stroller contraptions

AND "it would be nice if you would do this before the baby arrives..."

What are the dangers of taking expired prescription drugs? Is it safe to take an expired benzodiazepine such as Xanax, Klonopin, or Ativan?

You may take an expired tablet and find it subpotent, then supplement the dose the next time with a second tablet, which may have not changed in strength. For reasons such as this, it is easy to accidentally over-medicate or overdose when using old pills.

Components in liquid prescription preparations may have evaporated slightly, leaving a higher percentage of the active ingredient remaining in the solution—- meaning the outdated prescription may have actually increased in potency.

Depending on how and where the medicine was stored, it may no longer be sterile and now promote infection. Perhaps, tablets may have been stored in the bathroom medicine cabinet, and over time, have welcomed enough moisture to convert the chemical composition.

You may also be taking medications now which you were not taking at the time the expired prescription had been written-- inadvertently subjecting yourself to a drug interaction. When I write "taking medications now" everything counts. The range spans from new prescriptions, to what is perceived to be minor over the counter items. Antacids, laxatives, cold and cough syrups, pain relievers, vitamin supplements, herbals, eye drops, and even seemingly weak topical creams can promote a reaction.

Or, you may find the expired drugs are effective. Many do have therapeutic advantages. People should articulate their successes and expose the corporate marketing propaganda which insists on touting expired prescription drugs only as dangerous.

The FDA states that the majority of prescription medications are safe for three years beyond their expiration date. Of course, there are exceptions-- tetracyclines, for example, are a group of antibiotics which are known to become toxic over time. These should be disposed of properly.

I have personally taken alprazolam, (a benzodiazepine) which was out of date by five years, and Zoloft (the brand name version of sertraline hydrochloride, an ssri antidepressant) at three years past its use by date without serious problems.

The alprazolam, which is a generic equivalent of Xanax, had been stored in a bathroom medicine cabinet with extremely poor moisture ventilation. In my opinion, it was virtually equal in its effectiveness as any new stock.

The Zoloft taken was stored in the same place. I found that its antidepressant effects were as profound as a fresh pill, but, it made my skin itch and flake. Fresh Zoloft does not give my skin any grief.


Slightly related-- there is finally a generic version of Zoloft available, and I can determine the nuances between the name brand and generic equivalent of sertraline:

A new generic sertraline tablet offers an experience similar to the expired Zoloft-- it enhanced mood and eased some of my personal complications, but I had an itchy allergic reaction. I assume this was due to its excipient ingredients-- these 'carriers' or 'stabilizers' for the active ingredient can be different between name brand and generic forms.

To rank effectiveness, I found that Zoloft (brand name, fresh pill) worked best, then the expired Zoloft (brand name, 5 years after expiration date) and last in efficacy was the sertraline (generic, fresh stock). I have never taken expired sertraline tablets.

test #1= 100%
- easy

test #2= 100%
- easy

test #3= 100%
- easy

test #4= 100%
- it was difficult and took exactly two hours.
- used every available minute.
- i would swear i performed poorly.
consider: i always say this.
- the feeling is true.
consider: again, i always say this.

AND:

test #5= 100%
- not only was this the same engineering exam with the additional theoretical meteorology questions that was opened last week, but the testing program had saved my earlier answers. all that needed to be done was to scroll through the test in a fit of confirmation, and then submit it for auto-scoring.

why was there an allowance to breeze through this test? there is no room for any error in calculation on these problems, so why promote a flexibility in the course work? it aggravates me to no end when i see that someone else's version of a rule is merely a sentence.

fail! i had such hope for UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR.
he has just been demoted to group #3.
AND i will even refuse a future reference.

consider: it's not sad to lose people.
consider: it's reassuring to confirm the previous distrust.

five exams are scheduled for today .. after that i expect to dash to the car to fight the 405 .. friday traffic into LAX .. to sit on an uncomfortable flight .. to fly to a city which is more chaotic than my own.

three of these exams will be easy .. the fourth will take over two hours and i know none of the material .. the fifth might merely be a second submission of the engineering test Unorganized Professor deleted this last week .. why do i not love the perpetual act of pressing this pre-panic into a thrill? i still unfortunately hold a not-quite-obsessive total score of 100% or more in all classes .. even with two invalid points in one course .. their tuition affords insight but thank god i didn't waste money on the books.

consider: if this engineering test is identical to the one offered last week, and has just been reopened for examination, then i lose hope of ever finding a skip at the whip course .. if the questions are different, then a scream can attempt to derail apathy.

please let the test be different!
- hoping to find an ounce of dictatorial structure.
- bored to tears without the challenge.

please let the test be the same!
- it's friday after 12pm.
- clock dictates that intensity is off until 8am monday.
- sleepy and sleepless.
- exhausted from pushing on an extremely heavy downhill bike.
- under the influence of too much pain medicine.

AND c'mon, i need something to complain about.

a brilliant man, who was recently kicked out of my home, arranged his finances for me to see resident doctor #4 (in private practice) at my leisure.

consider: two hours a week @ $120 per 20 minute block of therapy.

i refuse to understand how people want to love me this much without an obvious return on the investment. if put to proper use, the brilliant man paying for resident doctor #4 will neither be around nor ever be apprised of its results- and he knows this.

consider: it's no secret i have health insurance. even if the premiums and deductibles were paid with the remainder of the money, this amount probably covers (the upcoming) nightly consultation with the cereal box dietitian and trips to my physician in new york.

consider: restricted living and the conflict of 'having' resident doctor #4's time and attention. a chunk of his time may be set aside for me, but how to accept it? those hours with him are mine- i own them, yet cannot even bring myself to sit down unless something is completely out of character. eye contact is only made after our hour comes to a close.



i asked invalid friend chuck to get a second job. it was suggested his odd 'four days on, three days off' schedule was somewhat responsible for driving anxieties in both of our lives. the patterns to the dysfunction were not only becoming predictable, but they were making me avoid him. invalid friend agreed to undertake additional employment- didn't even blink. then we took a long drive out to ontario, went to jenson usa (bike store), and i bought him everything he touched.



-- side effects from the pathology go here
-- typing blind, neurological issues, or merely eyesight floaters...



...wildly strange and sudden cases of coarse silvery-blonde lanugo on my lower right forearm, and wispy 'regular' lanugo cover my left arm.



consider: how enrolling in university courses has been an attempt to find a structure outside of the lethal one i already maintain. but, why try? it is continually questioned, nothing will ever rival the intimacy of anorexia.



skip ahead to the perpetual illustration of limp authority:

UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR finally acknowledged a problem with our recent exam and posted a few lecture notes which covered a theoretical meteorology presentation. the basics of theoretical meteorology should be a prerequisite to this particular level of astronautical engineering. UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR said to look over our thermodynamics, review this new lecture, and then he would reopen the same test for our class this weekend. "many students had difficulties logging in, so this is their first chance to take it. if you have already taken the exam, retake it and resubmit it by monday."

the same test!? is this an issue i have with language or does he really mean we are going to retake the SAME test? from my recent experiences, and as appalling as it sounds, this is exactly what it means. what sense does this make? as soon as the gradebook listed my score, i opened it and saved the entire exam. didn't everyone?

the concept that "i hold a power over people who enter my life" post goes here.

why do i need to post a rebuttal? my philosophy on this concept has not changed. i have no 'power' over other people unless they allow for it to happen.

if in any way a 'power' could be true, it stems from brutal honesty and the language i use to direct people's thoughts or actions.

how difficult would it be for UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR to acknowledge that our course section's recent test was a loss? this is a hybrid class, which is a combination of online access and lab work, but even a note posted to the online forum which noted a problem is repayment enough. assuming he lacks an anxiety disorder, how long does it take to decide how to proceed? classmates did poorly on previous graded efforts, have retained the required subject matter this time, and are now flustered and confused at being tested on unfamiliar material. most of the class has questioned the test and wondered how they missed studying those topics. why is UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR keeping students on edge?

good lord, what is this? almost 30% compassion?

no way. if i can water fast for a week and still detail a proficiency on an exam meant for another course, then so can the other students. see, the rule is: constantly be prepared for everything in triplicate or don't bother presenting yourself. the other students should stop their yammering about how difficult the test was, shouldn't they?

insight over this stupid chaos: i am not dealing with anxiety at the current time, and even though whatever happens over this is meaningless, 1) i actively refreshed my gradebook 51 times today due to the interest in how my 100% is going to play out; and 2) obsession stands close enough to count.

same story, different day.

how to return and accurately narrate the tale to the blog after a few days off, especially when DAILY LIFE and outlook have both been tightening faster than can be told? accepting a title of train wreck and pushing it to create art is entertaining, but this recent reintegration of consciousness is boring!

[skip ahead]

a portion of the weekend was spent with an ecologist and a few marine scientists in moss landing, california. this is a coastal town in northern california, south of san francisco, situated between santa cruz and monterey. we set off from moss landing marine laboratories, on an expedition to scope out a raft of fasting sea otters. the ecologist who i was accompanying is a professor from the university of california - santa barbara and was in a state of constant biological oceanographical orgasm. i was traditionally cold. in all seriousness, and though immersed in a fraternity of scholars, some of the group felt completely out of our domains and found excitement in acting as pointing tourists. my photographs are lousy, but i stumbled upon a fascinating woman who has a great blog entry depicting exactly what we went to investigate.

[skip ahead]

it's monday, a resident doctor #4 day, and lately i still cannot, for the love of god, arrive to an appointment with him on time.

a semi rolled over and caught fire on the 101 southbound near downtown los angeles. i exited in advance of the congestion and took surface streets, driving around whoknowswhere but south of hollywood, amid korean signage and independent fast food restaurants. crispy chickenjoy, anyone? my almost-twin drove by in the other direction and we exchanged neck-craning mock looks of shock. yeah, bet me "mister black on pepper white" that my huper optik nano ceramic technology window film doesn't trump your custom racing stripes. ha! three blocks later, i damn near flipped MINI Sippy Car making an immediate turn. oh, shut up. padded four-point racing harnesses promote a lot of bravery.

after all of that excitement, which didn't do much to clear the brain fog, resident doctor #4 offered the idea that this perpetual lateness relates to how i "am not invested in our visits."

sure, that's it. he should have sat along for the ride. elective mutism confirms an attitude and reveals anger rather than comes across as speechlessness, eh? i actually left the house an hour earlier than normal but-- the process of attendance today would have made great video.

[skip ahead]

same old, same old: after returning home and logging on to take what was supposed to be an extremely difficult exam, it turned out UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR loaded an incorrect test into the system. the first two questions were relevant to engineering and thermodynamics, but holy crap, the remaining items were meant for another course. this exam actually covered the theoretical dynamical meteorology topics i had intended to independently research a few weeks ago.

how in the heck does one handle being stuck with a mistaken module? i played along. the exam self-scored itself and said, "another 100%. exemplary, damn you. how will the rest of the students perform and how will UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR respond to their complaints? perhaps, let's hope they are refused a voice since you just raised the bar again." another day, another meaningless perfection. forever a failure in my head, it's no secret i was surprised at the score.

consider: stress, the appropriate exam must still loom.

"don't fucking die on me," said resident doctor #4, as we left his makeshift office at the homeless clinic this morning.

please. i only spoke of investigating the enticing romance of hell-- not of how to deal with the embarrassment of standing before its gates with a look of oops on my face.

day three on this pill, the second time around:

the lack of emotions relating to physical pain cannot be told. pain is just a dead thud or an annoyance instead of that which ignites the body's expression. also, i am once again dealing with proprioception. simply from the medicine, my body is extremely dehydrated and the odd perception of gravity defines what it feels like to be split apart. i feel as though my body has been scattered into multiple areas of space. dehydration is a fact, but is it the main cause? the medicine has definitely amped me up.

as i type this, brain, body, and sight seem to be located at three separate areas of this desk. it’s hard to focus my eyes-- but not just to shower and clear their blur. owning two eyes now makes for two chores. keeping apprised of both eyes is a job and therefore is easier to leave them closed.

when the brain tells the body to walk straight, my head hangs left in an effort to balance and the path taken verges to the right. physical stability is off. it's difficult to type here and try to cultivate decent sentences, as information is noticeably flowing in and out at two different rates. when looking around the room, it seems swimmy, as though a split second is needed for information to catch up to relate what it is i am seeing. intoxicated? overtired? i don't know how to appropriately illustrate this. at first, i felt disconnected from the sensation of pain and started to condition myself to that deficit. as time goes by, i am starting to physically feel disconnected from everything.

what do i do about this feeling? (reaction? sensations? side effects?) as it stands, i should not drive myself to the emergency room. i don't know whether or not to consider an intervention-- or if i should just go to bed? it's wednesday, and who knows where resident doctor #4 works today, but he would return my call within three minutes no matter where in the world he stood. i am completely unsure as to what talking to him would do, anyway. he would ask if i could deal with this weird disconnection but watch it in an attempt to define it at a later time. my wishy washy wussy answer would hedge more toward yes, i will endure than no-- because i don't necessarily feel bad, i just feel freaking weird.

resident doctor #4 would again state that increasing the dose would result in less side effects. the problem with taking more, is that these medicines completely assault my system like a poison and the overdose immediately wipes me out: bathroom and gastrointestinal issues; sweating and chills; heart palpitations and shortness of breath; splitting headaches; and lapsing in and out of consciousness. taking a higher dose is a definite overdose. resident doctor #4 is always interested in what is revealed in the rendition-- apparently i speak of chemical experiences that only patients who have taken extremely high doses of medicine for an extended term would present.

is this medicine all bad?
i won’t know until this trial of medicine is over. perhaps something i deal with on a daily basis has been slightly alleviated and i will not notice this until it steps back into its full form.

is anything good coming of this?
the disconnection of pain is extremely interesting. i don't know how else to phrase what this feels like. a mislaid pain? a pain 'without the panic behind it' which means it doesn't excite an anxious obsession in the mind? "it's exciting that pain isn't exciting or even numbing. pain is in a place where it could be explored." i doubt this even articulates 10% of how it is.

any elevated mood?
none. the resulting stubbornness is obnoxious, much different than normal, and therefore hilarious.

the horrible question: am i beginning to feel?
god, no.

an abnormally quick growth in eyelashes (related to the tiny increase of hormones in my body from this pill) is back-- eyelashes swipe the insides of my eyeglasses. ordinarily estrogen and serotonin are purposely starved down and any minor increase via food or pharmaceutical makes for a noticeable change. this lightspeed eyelash growth and length is a familiar experience during these trials.

about five minutes after starting on a glass of water, i need to force myself to keep the fluid down. this also happened one of the last times an ssri was challenged-- how i felt compelled to make myself throw up after simple sips of water. [i do feel desperate to violate nature, but am not really acting on it each time.] consider the effort to purge water, physical attack on the LIFEBOX, and energy expended during an episode which has no threat of caloric absorption. the conflict isn't related to paranoia or the weight of water inside of LIFEBOX, rather, anorexia ‘is telling me’ to rewind the situation and think about it: did you really need that water or did you just have it out of habit? it suggests, "when did you get so loose to just drink!? for what reason do you think water does not matter?" yes, water is something rather than nothing and i'll not have anything, thanks. [i don't usually get ridiculous in regard to calorie free liquids unless existing in the completely neurotic second week of a restricted water only fast-- a time when suddenly the calories in envelope glue, stamps, and toothpaste, which have always mattered, suddenly matter tremendously.] the side effects from the current fluid restriction combined with purging also feel dangerously close to a pre-seizure state of cloudiness.

pain without emotion, or consideration to that emotion-- this is good, in that it is different and interesting regarding food/hunger, but honestly bad on a whole. pain is essential in my life and works as a gauge. am i ripping a sewn sports injury? what about the torn tendon i have now? there are a few times a year that i cannot run for more than 100 yards due to immediate and intense pain. ordinarily, i could go on forever, but then again, there are times i am alerted to stop after an hour on the road. pain is practical and informative. how can one gauge danger or severity without it?

this entry ends here due to floaters and bright flashes of light related to dehydration. even if there are word omissions or a clear difficulty with language in this post stemming from this current state of ailment, i want what is written here to be somewhat comprehensible for a later time.

these pills give me frightening nightmares about being perceived as normal. what a relief to wake up with the air free from white noise and without fear of an impending utility bill. i didn't even need to turn and confirm the familiar lump of dried cat vomit on the sheet.

since the bad times were unusual, if stumbling upon an entry like this in the future, will i remember whether or not i was kidding? consider how normal is fat. white noise is cheap. AND if insomnia decided to summon for and button up the snoopy sheets, well... well, i don't even know where they are.

on a serious note, i am under the influence of resistance. i am also ignoring the threat of translating a remarkably boring russian philosophy text. not only is the aforementioned resistance bitchy, but it's as corny as crow. never fear, i've got skeleton socks stashed in the winkle pickers and no, you can't even try to get by at being mad at me when we both know the rule.

consider: why huh when you can smile and say yes?

consider my invalid friend chuck. he recently got his real estate license, has a full time job, and is also working towards his second graduate degree. well, this bastard is just... the laziest...uh... ah, this isn't really going to work here today. damn. i can usually spin that plate all day.

your par is not my par, dearest, so duck and goddamn cover 'cause when the tales of neuroscience come true, they won't be smushing up like nerf, 'kay?

[yay pills!!!]

- invalid friend received his commission check
- he gave it to me to bank or invest
- whether the first or last digit, it seemed to lack a number
- invalid friend may soon be missing a digit, too
- where did the additional zero go?
- corny insistence that 'he's the zero' applies here

panic attack.
money.
... all that.

fear history. fear a downgraded life of rice and plastic-y chevrolet. fear a combination of happiness and the five year payment plan. please, if you have to, we only accept canned soup in pop top cans, said a food bank clerk to me. me, a person who, many years ago and after school, rooted through animal feed bags, sorting loaves of bread which had started to mold. it was my job to sort the rotten from the salvageable. if the first few slices have gone bad, that's okay. just open it up and take those out. you can still bring the rest home. fear the past but consider how life never truly hurt and issues only thrived after people insisted it would leave the future fractured.

consider: store-branded cans of condensed soup are on sale for $.88 this week and spaces allocated for chicken noodle, tomato, and cream of chicken are all picked bare.

AND how can this be since the woman in command of donations suggested:
we try to take a thoughtful approach and canned soup signifies...
__________?

consider: the associate who recently signed another seven figure contract who insists he cannot allow himself to buy dog food or household products without a coupon.

if the current variant of poverty has gone upscale, to the point that canned soup is frowned upon, perhaps there is nothing to fear. invalid friend can disintegrate into his familiar level of complacency, yet maintain his mass. why worry?

no-- i won't hear of it. without fear, anxiety, or endurance taught by REX, i could end up a middle aged when-i-win-the-lottery buffoon who actually owns an alarm clock and eats breakfast at a desk owned by someone else.

[yay pills!!!]

translation: invalid friend gets to interview for a second job after he details the old car and assembles my thermodynamics assignment.

here we go again: i took a quarter of bicyclic antidepressant. that's right, a bicyclic and not an ssri, tricyclic antidepressant, antipsychotic, or benzodiazepine. since i need to go back to bizarre way of relating the story for the next few weeks, let's say it turned half of me on and everyone else off. what? other people exist? it appears true. it is probably already clear that this is not the emotion to welcome.

inner character: reinforced
libido: off
gastrointestinal distress: of course
overdose?
consider: ...

REX says: "cheat! use this pill to reach weight! take the lowest low!"
flagrant says: "i have every intention."

predicted: experiencing detached sensations of hunger (food, not drive/libido)
consider: all acquired physical invisibility will feel stolen.

predicted: lack of emotional element when connected to pain.
consider: self injure to investigate whether or not the effervescent reawakening of consciousness exists in this chemically induced dissociation?

a second spectrum of detached dissociation- such poetry. who on earth details their inner world enough to understand? no one. what do i want to display here? reveal a provocative theory of how neuropeptides bind to opiate receptors and integrate the body and mind while the brain-dead mass squint and try to invalidate that which they do not understand by articulating this blog as startlingly pathological? or do i merely force the train wreck and relate a flatness of solid pain by illustrating a rectangular agony which lacks wave, pulse, and inspired dream? yes, i'd like it but also assume anyone reading crushed and snorted the facts a long time ago.

so, i went for a walk
AND growled at an agitated dog
AND he abruptly stopped barking.
such power!
i'd still rather be able to light people on fire from a distance.

yay, pills! [scoff] i feel so much better now.

appointment today with resident doctor #4. he isn't on my back, but wtf am i supposed to do about these trials in medication? "i'll try to take this pill for a week" but never get more than a few days into it before discarding the idea. hallucinations, head detaching from body-- last time was somewhat entertaining but not enough to hold my interest. i am completely game to try, except now that i leave the house on a consistent basis, these trials are dangerous. should driving be restricted? see, i don't know how to proceed.

how, why, and when to tell resident doctor #4 i have physical exams scheduled next month and feel compelled to force the whitelights while waiting for the appointments? an in depth physical exam is the perfect excuse to decide the time has come to see the worst of it. suddenly it's important- i want a new lowest weight. shaking up the regiment is a bad idea, but... or what? lag here forever? blushing language- these brightlights are boring. i set the trap this morning while out running. lies. i remember never believing it at first but it always works.

AND i tried to fail a midterm in astronautical engineering last week. when it appeared i may have damn near succeeded, there was an immediate glance toward the knife/ here, slit my wrists/ but please... do it without drama.

logged on/ read the first question/ hmm/ read the second... skipped down to question #20 or so/ then considered withdrawing from the class. A or F but currently a double A/ i would have bet on the F and this has nothing to do with recent and useful doubt/ the exam was crafted and worded to prove one understood the material. what a concept! i had to actually read and think about each question rather than just glance over... connect the words... hit the answers. weird/ university has been ridiculously simple/ occasionally forget its main purpose is for education/ rather than form my own personal development/ connection/ attempts at socialization/ management of nerves.

our professor posted our grades and is not happy/ images of childhood and a maniacal father/ fear the eerie calm before the hole punched in the wall/ fear the device which was designed to break during a beating/ during an uncontrollable rage/ fear how i thought nothing of this/ AND how my psychiatrist needed to leave the room to compose himself after i related the memory.

the engineering professor says he is not surprised/ which probably means 'oh, just gloss over his annoyance' to most students/ but i know enough not to breathe. "there was one 98," he said, "two grades in the D range, and the rest fell below 60." a sixty, man, i wouldn't have thought of hoping for anything lofty like sixty points/ but prayer works well for me when it doesn't involve tangible goods or a luxury tax. [need rain for your archenemy's wedding? got it covered/ but i'll never wish and find a free ferrari.] my 98 on the exam indicates one answer was marked wrong. funny/ the incorrect answer was one of two questions i knew off the top of my head. nervous/ embarrassed/ i didn't know i was nervous enough to wrong the right.

our professor insists student comments regarding this exam be posted on the course message board/ what am i supposed to say? other students have already written the obvious about taking a better approach next time/ like i said/ what to write? this exam was expected to be difficult because i never acknowledged the assigned reading/ i hate being required to comment because the honest answers are: 1) i may have earned an A but i still think i fucked up this test; and, 2) even though the term is half over, i probably will go out and buy the textbook now.

consider: fear of appearing arrogant, when in fact...

consider: the anxiety spent while saving the $200 on the course textbook.
consider: how arrogant isn't the correct definition whatsoever.
consider: how i was just too damn shy to go the the bookstore.

two different interviews with clothing stylists for my lecture endeavor/ imagine the process/ you clean the house five times/ perfecting to the point of imperfection/ you unknowingly pace/ an unfamiliar car pulls into your driveway/ person is noticeably wearing too many clothes/ costumed/ out of place/ a clown in your yard/ person appears too thick to hire a second assistant/ she fumbles in the process of relocating ten experimental wardrobes to your step/ juggles the commotion to the inside of your home/ imagine sharp metal clothing racks standing taller than yourself/ imagine how a rack holding the symmetry of fifty identical shirts would stir no emotion/ soothing/ imagine the noise which stemmed from this carnival of unmatched clothing/ belts/ belts which should be coiled and confined into a mobile drawer instead hung loosely from a bar/ there will be no belts/ consider the people who belt themselves in/ some of us ectomorphs would slice the pancreas/ pant crease/ consider creases on pants/ consider finding functional clothing falling between utilitarian gymnasium garb and stodgy banking button downs/ consider how it may be best to choose the established and previously employed rather than the emerging/ AND i like my likes just fine/ get out of my house/ sigh/ AND take your flannel loafers with you/ on to the next! oh, let me guess/ not the sexy librarian look/ rather/ another contrived edgy librarian look/ erm, this is familiar to what i saw earlier today/ "um," he said/ damn near laughed at his cherry red tipped hair/ "um," he said/ good bye/ so that was that/ AND i guess i just zip myself up now.


to the store late last night/ an invalid/ a kid/ and me/ cashier loudly alerted everyone to a fight in the parking lot/ our favorite manager turned into hitler/ automatic doors were blocked/ shoppers remained inside/ we leaned against the outside windows which lined the front of the store/ squinting through the glare to see if there really was a show/ young men tried to conceal hammers while swinging bats at each other/ several windows of a hummer limousine were smashed or received spidered cracks/ people exited a nearby restaurant only to stutter and immediately run back inside/ the raving group of men ran by in front of the shopping audience/ AND jumped into junk cars/ AND hurriedly drove away/ show's over/ well dressed limousine occupants appeared and converged to linger en masse/ upon exiting the store, we avoided the glass scattered on the ground/ AND all stopped to surround an abandoned hammer on the way to our car.


AND this morning the child walked in and proclaimed he was taking a job/ mm-hmm/ my ranting over collective complacency/ bitching about how lazy people put on the hound and sniff around my life for scraps must vocally end here/ oh yeah, what are you going to do?/ "i am not going to do. i am going to be," he said/ HA HA HA/ words may be wrong but the sentiment is dead on/ sidebar/ he was recently approached to be one of several young hosts of an educational television series/ yes more than no/ perhaps but perhaps not/ it has been suggested that he might like to take on other experiences first/ yes and yes/ all, at all of the time/ he definitely has no problem with the want/ will have no problem with the have/ AND no lack of aspirations are anywhere to be found/ AND no lack of esteem, either/ do note that co-star demise already appears planned.

[100 good things]

e-mail from older sibling #1:
subject: weather

e-mail from older sibling #2:
subject: weather

e-mail from a college student:
subject: can you help me with my meteorology class?

she hates me... even though the professor's existence is not valuable to me, and specific evaluation stemming from her own level of education can mean nothing, i do wonder if there is any truth to the pushed paranoia. if the idea of being hated was promoted in my head more than it should have been, it still had a purpose- i did better on my last minute project than without the game and earned more confidence with that competition. not only did i stick a fork into the situation, but i was able to give it the extra twist without thought.

the fear is justified: most people i run into lack the capacity for regulating basic information. no one will notice or care if i refuse to overdo, but... what happens if i slack off on the day i finally run into someone like me? i don't look toward the collective sloth for answers- i am apt to eventually find 'me' out there.

a paper, worth half of my final grade and 'mistakenly' assigned last night, is due about an hour from now-- but it easily assembled itself and was turned in around six o'clock tonight. approximately fifteen minutes after i clicked send, my grade was returned along with a comment that the project was extremely well done.

it was not. my answer was designed to detail more than what was required, but it certainly was not extremely well done.

perhaps the professor does hate me...
and was completely ready to pounce?
just sitting there?
waiting to read my paper?

of course not.

perhaps my assigned topic was honestly forgotten
and she just happened to be online
exactly at the time i turned it in.

it doesn't matter, but i still wonder.

i hate the no problem. the stressless now. the anxiety free afterward. nothing is wrong and i turn the minor details in life into something profound- something to try to worry about or overcome. any effort to have a distraction from what is going on behind my scene.

consider: turmoil, everything dysfunctional = REX helps, offers structure
consider: security, everything boring = REX helps, offers the grand epic

re: my professor hates me and purposely assigned my research topic LATE.

unfortunately for her, i thoroughly investigated this very assigned topic in an award winning documentary film just two years ago. fact: i have started to enjoy who i am and what i have accomplished. also: mark this down as the day i laughed so hard that i almost physically broke in half.

consider: bothering to write the paper?
consider: smarmily sliding a dvd under her office door?

- on november 15th, LIFEBOX is scheduled for an mri.
consider: the difference between doomsday and christmas.

consider: foregoing the furled brow, going back to writing about LIFEBOX.
consider: reluctantly blogging through REX's voice.
- currently detached from relating eating disorder in that language.
- trying it out today feels a bit more psycho than necessary.
AND forcing The Nutcase is never more than soft.

consider: "the anorexia says..."
- granted, that odd language is insightful, very useful.

consider: anorexia's inevitable adaptation over the next month.
consider: for instance, the lunacy in relating an atmospheric diet.
- days with measurable rain allow for ________ and ___________.
- it's mad, mean, incomprehensible
consider: angry?

consider: the secret rules other people's actions define.
- he said he was tired, so i will not eat today (that lazy asshole!)
- if he is heard eating, i will not eat today (that disgusting pig!)
- if he picks an indulgent choice, i will not eat today (how sickening!)

consider: 'gee, i must be suppressing an intense panic right now about this future medical exam and evaluation, the physical exposure, and a lack of independence. is it not obvious that REX immediately stepped up with the rule and ritual book to formulate a structure of safety?'

consider: long term.
consider: DEATH metaphor taps the chest on a weekly basis.
consider: the appointment is essential.

consider: the physical portion of the medical exam, the mri.
- my entire physical composition is going to be at hand, or on file.
AND REX insists on putting LIFEBOX in a place without wishes.
- erm, perhaps that should be italicized.

consider: why use the next few weeks to follow the current rituals which keep me at a safe level of sickness? instead of structure, why not touch the negative number? why not choose to be as sick as possible? DAILY LIFE cannot remain at this current level of stability as it's as boring as hell.

long story short and skewed in my favor: i have a project due tomorrow. the professor hates me. other students have known their topic for many weeks and have had time to research. my professor has finally found the time to assign a focus and just sent my assigned topic at 9:00pm this evening.

can obstacles she throws out onto my field really compete with the blocks i build for myself?

idea: choose to act annoyed outside of my head.

here sits the e-mail. consider how i refuse to open it and reveal my topic. consider how the submissions from other students appear to have been done in less than fifteen minutes. consider how i have medical tests tomorrow and also an appointment to get the old car smogged. well, good- otherwise i might have had to rehash the excitable.

the child in which i have recently accepted responsibility has just walked in the door. delayed flight. hours and hours gone missing. now, home for the weekend.

AND yes, as a matter of fact, he was abducted, he decides.

:)

AND he wants pad thai.

at midnight.

there is no pad thai (let alone thai, or take out) available at midnight.

whatever- let's break rules and go find pad thai.

in a few hours .. the population of a lecture hall will be silently trying to judge me .. i will be showered and .. if four weeks ago .. wearing dark amber colored flats .. perhaps the green tonight .. texture will grab fashionable attention .. consider how the unsophisticated could translate amber to yellow, which easily holds a wince .. fear that narcotic waft of frump .. will the attendance conserve?

drove down there and investigated the hall .. threw my voice around .. walked up and down the aisles while manipulating expression .. centered a table and then decided to climb up on it .. a man, of course, walked in while i was standing in the sky .. had he not known the eyeball universe is invisible there may have been threat of conversation .. no problem .. green shoes .. i will wear the green shoes and sit on that table .. fully exposed .. but bent.

hysterical conflict: i would do soapless laundry before heading out to the store alone to pick up detergent this afternoon, but--

consider: suck in the rush of this weird fork in daily life?
consider: in a few months, this will be just another shrug.

consider: force the nutcase?
consider: feed the blogstalker?

skip ahead to the no problem, where summer anxiety and recent weeks of tethering myself with doubt is suddenly non-existant. good lord, kill the blog or apologize in advance while temporarily turning it into a biography?

[goal: act amused]

- man borrowed my range rover yesterday to run an oversized errand.
- i have no problem with it being borrowed if used to its potential.
- man is informed of parking restrictions between 8:00-10:00am.
- man confirms he understands where to and not to park.
- unbeknownst to me, the vehicle was incorrectly returned.
- at 8:10am i thought, "crap, i'd better go out and double check."
- parking violation issued: 8:04am

[goal: act amused]

- a new employee visited me today.
- a friendly gesture, i really like this guy.
- new employee broke the bathroom light switch.
- new employee then destroyed a new dyson vacuum cleaner.
- but... he wasn't even using the vacuum cleaner!
note: this guy will be accompanying me internationally.

[goal: act amused]

parking violation= $50
light switch= $4
vacuum cleaner= $360ish (if i have a 20% off bed bath and beyond coupon)

[goal: act amused]

consider: stagnation-related topics are bothering me a lot because of my own complacency with eating disorder. i don't know which way to go. holding on to its safety while letting resident doctor #4 rattle around it has been going on for about a year now. i am holding on while listening and this is good, but... am somewhat hovering over rock bottom. what does that mean? it seems both sides growl, and neither health nor sickness are caged, but they are being kept in place.

the 'voice' of the eating disorder is strong with the current medicine and tries to convince me that i am bored... that i should act on something different or intense... even if it's the wrong choice... bad is good... how much insight would come from disaster... it says to cheat and use the medicine if i want... it also recommends using illicit white pills...

what if i facilitate change and instead use resident doctor #4 as the safety, and explore my own rattling or romancing of the anorexia? i could die. i could cause a lot of people pain. perhaps the best idea is to do *something* as i feel stuck- suspended to move but scared to taunt it. this is a weird place where i refuse health, refuse pain aside from the familiar, and also refuse to give this current pain up.

resident doctor #4 and i are trying to set up a way to see each other twice a week and if this structure is made available, it will afford me well. i could provoke and touch the worst the eating disorder has to offer, and make decisions from there. it could never begin a decline unless i decide to hate or become angry at it. daily life has been pretty good since rd#4 and i departed our twice a week setting at ucla, but the brain crap has really grown out of hand without his reinforcement.

can it get more aggravating than this? a person who constantly asks how to better her life financially, and actively promotes the "wish i was you" nonsense, has ignored a suggestion of applying for a $65K/year part-time job. not only does this position come with remarkable benefits at that part time level, but it is undemanding and in her same line of work. if "this type of change is frightening" the job could be taken on in addition to her primary job for a trial run. 'at will employment' is easily retractable, but still, there appears to be no application.

her= probably stoned from too much tv and packaged foods
me= secretly irate but trying to cap the attitude

it's beneficial to watch other's stagnation turn into deterioration. i must turn off these newly appearing emotions. must choose to no longer outwardly care about this person's financial state of affairs. must assume her to be operating at full capacity. must assume her to be virtually useless to me except when using this type of disdain to thrive. must now dread all transactions of future conversation. must not say, "for fuck's sake, you're too damn lazy to even put a magic marker to cardboard and stand at a freeway ramp with your hand out, so hell if i could suggest anything else." must not say, "why don't you just go sit in front of the television for ten years. when you're 35, you can return and tell us all how depressed you are."

consider: stirring up her interest in that job by suggesting 'since she has no incentive' i might just apply for it myself... watch her mind go towards thinking about lost shopping opportunities or whatnot... then suggest aloud how the additional income would pay for some unbelievably superfluous item that she couldn't comprehend owning... like beachfront property in costa rica.

the flip side to this aggravation is how i feel like santa claus and want to reward someone whose resume proves they have been making an effort-- share the wealth with someone else who has begun to put their anxiety to use.

one stupid thing happens and *pow* i am either out for the count or am ready for a fight. the anger is coming. it stems from a physical spot clenched right above the roots of anxiety. this emotion will be frightening because if allowed to expand, it could reveal itself in a form of maniacal rage.

[murderous intentions deleted]

a short course of events:

- stressed out about writing another thermodynamics paper
- thought wtf, then decided to invalidate the stress
- and submitted a perfect paper very early

- UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR cannot seem to find my paper
reason: i turned it in before it was officially assigned.
- UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR just awarded me a zero on the assignment

consider: but if i kill him, the zero will remain in my gradebook.

now what?
BEAT PEOPLE.

no, really?
BEAT PEOPLE.

on the other hand: since it has been illustrated that only three individuals who have ever intersected my life have been on the ball, where do i find the endurance to constantly overreact to things like this?

on the third hand: part of me doesn't care about receiving a zero if it looks like nothing was submitted to receive the grade. it's not like having zero points given to something created and presented for evaluation.

on the fourth hand: it is a big deal. fuck this. i was exceedingly exceptional in this class with 120% out of 100- now i just suck with 108% which is virtually a regular old A. anyone can do that! if i cannot earn more than an A for a final grade- so what? i know where my points fall which is what matters.

on the fifth hand: this is the entire reason i am enrolled- not for the class topics, but to figure out how to manage day to day shit like this. i cannot calm the fuck down even though "this" is exactly what it's all for.

on the sixth hand:
resident doctor #4 said: "grades... evaluation... judgment! how can YOU allow yourself to be evaluated by these people? after everything YOU have done, YOU are so far beyond them. this one isn't grade or number obsession. tristan, why are you still giving these meaningless opinions value?"

the unspoken answer:
quick, how pretty is the picture you paint of a person who doesn't give a damn about what most other people think? are they wearing unlaundered clothes? do they have a tendency to eat out of the same pot in which they heated their food? are they eating their food straight out of the can without heating it up? chances are, the unaffected person pictured isn't depicted wearing red nike shoes with his armani suit at his own gallery reception.

on the seventh hand: when i put in for my reincarnation assignment in purgatory, i don't remember saying at the interview, "i'd do well continually taking up the slack for people who are too unorganized to keep it together." nope, that's not what happened. i used extra perks towards being physically perfect, knew the disjointed family structure was essential to earn a dual perspective, and accepted that i would still be carrying around unconfronted devils from the previous life. i've gone over the paperwork- nowhere did i initial anything about becoming a magnet for idiocy.

on the eighth hand: the "seventh hand" consideration is apt to get mail from lunatics who will not realize i am kidding, but insist on using any opportunity to relate their own experiences of the afterlife. just as long as they don't call. [someone did the other day, but i was in traffic and quite far away from swallowing the knife, so the phone call was a little bewildering. expect interesting calls like that should occur after dark.]

[sigh]

i've calmed. it's funny how i carry a huge and easily outspoken personality but am simultaneously bashful. i would rather take the zero for a grade than send an e-mail to UNORGANIZED PROFESSOR in an effort to help locate my assignment.

"has successfully swallowed doxycycline without incident..."

due to recent travels in central america, i am on malaria prophylaxis, but nine times out of ten, my body will reject a doxycycline capsule. since this antibiotic is overwhelming to the system, i took the pills and tried to let the rejection process exhaust me. this is exactly what happened. i could feel the medicine starting to make me sick, but since deciding to endure the response in bed, its ability to rile up my body knocked me out fairly quickly.

resident doctor #4 always suggests trying to take the pill with food in an effort to avoid it coming back up. whatever. [consider how even a small bulk of food essentially acts as propulsion.] it makes you wonder why people choose the immediate danger of ipecac to purposely traumatize their digestive system when doxy will do it all of the way down to the squelch, clarify your skin, and keep your parotid glands from swelling up, too.

consider: antibiotic resistance v. emetine cardiomyopathy

flat, but required to wear a medium-sized personality today.

i don't do medium.
- too big this way
- too small that way
- any realm of fat must smother thin
- conflict tugs, motors the nutcase
- is never trumps better be sure

plan: act dysfunctional but whip it all into appearing drowsy.
consider: does a medium-sized personality require grown up shoes?

- will restart the medicine trial today and try for a full week.
- will deal with its frightening chest pains and odd hallucinations.

i have determined the auditory experiences stemming from this medicine to be resultant of former isolation- it is not clearly a voice, but definitely a perception of language.

why have almost all of the visual hallucinations involved childhood pets? is this an unconscious desire for the concepts of non-judgment, love, and companionship? years ago when gravely ill and in a hospital bed, i experienced what were thought to be hallucinations, but could detail nuances between that experience and these chemical-related scenes. there is an automatic comfort in the 'childhood pet' visual- to the point the hallucination does not immediately register as odd. back when ill, the fuzziness of the scene felt bizarre even while it was happening.

might the metallic taste be a gustatory hallucination rather than true? how would i know? the flavor actually seems to be a companion to an increase in saliva. might i be able to manipulate the flavor into that of sour apple, mangosteen, or perhaps even neutralize it? yeah, probably not.

i am trying to use my own japanese property on a somewhat consistent monthly basis to explore the insanity of excess. unfortunately, deciding to terminate the relationship with the tenant who lived there was not a minor loss of income, and lately, the airfares needed to fly two people into tokyo-narita have been personally insulting.

yesterday, a japanese firm sent notification of a slight adjustment in a skin care contract we had recently negotiated. (the world moves on and 'cosmeceuticals' is such a bad word.) not only does this tweak fall in my favor financially, but the additional income is oddly equivalent to the rental income lost and two high season priced airfares per month.

it's repetitive, but still strange-- whenever i bite hard enough and make a choice which is beneficial to my growth, after the internal world calms, i am consistently repaid.

[skip ahead]

two weeks ago, a man approached and somewhat tried to sell me on a public speaking position. i tossed the idea around but initially thought, "ha ha! good god, go away."

[skip ahead]

since i know i can do it, my soul has been sold to stress for $2500 an evening, but in no way do i want to put myself through this. right now, i cannot even imagine it happening.

rather than the original twelve suggested lectures, it was agreed i would present eighteen over the course of six months. this gives me three days per month of justified dissociation, followed by a pronounced esteem- all travel expenses paid. no, i didn't ask if resident doctor #4 was an expense.

early last year, a professor and i assembled and then promoted our own textbook. this, plus previous experience, subsequently created the uncomfortable opportunity to be a university guest lecturer. it is only awful a few days before the date, but the feeling is manageable. how powerful to command the attention of everyone in a room again. a little snarkiness, a little entertainment- i always feel welcomed and never in a position to be nervous.

since the professor and i actively engaged in this form of promotion, this edition of 'meaningless side project' has grown and here it is about to move into the business world. taking on these new lectures also provides us with many opportunities to sell an adaptation of our book. nothing puts me in a better mood than getting paid for that which has already been researched, assembled (book, lecture notes), and now only requires timely updates.

changes are initiated during chunks of health
AND (rule:) they must never stem from fear or desperation.
recognize health, act accordingly.

[skip ahead]

since my import textile enterprise remains out of control, i have decided to refuse its chaos. another international scout and i signed a lease on a small gallery and will now show these antique imported goods by appointment and ship them ourselves. it's documented that we could earn three times the amount of money currently brought in if we had a place to present our pieces, but this consideration has always been overwhelming. the idea of having a "store" is not only off putting, but sounds financially dangerous. what is this- a fifth edition of 'meaningless side project' for both of us? yes. basically, we aren't interested in losing money or, um, working more at it than we already do.

neither of us want the responsibility of employees. our imports do not appeal to the average person's wallet or taste in home decor. no random foot traffic would ever result in a sale. the two of us had desired the additional income available, but how would we feasibly ever open a shop? what we have done is alter the psychology from 'fluorescent-lit retail store' to 'ambient and intimate personal gallery.' the rental space also functions as storage, i am media-savvy, and this will work out fine.

a virtually silent appointment with resident doctor #4.
consider: merely two appointments over the course of five weeks.

the blue rug provided no parallels, only squashed lens-shaped dots.
consider: cloudy skies offer no constellations.

BRAIN thought: 'lenticular clouds.'
consider: stable air.
consider: accompanied turbulence helps gliders to soar.

BRAIN thought: 'or perhaps, an optic lens.'
consider: under the magnifying glass?
consider: perspective?

MOUTH said: "this time here is meaningless."

drove home.

BRAIN got very angry with MOUTH.
BODY questioned why BRAIN intended to be self injurious towards LEGPART.
BRAIN agreed, forced MOUTH to phone resident doctor #4.

MOUTH said: "i'm not insulting you or our time."
MOUTH said: "instead, the current lack of focus defines the meaningless."

consider: BODY----
REX says: "NO NO NO, we all see where this is going."
REX says: "BODY will not question BRAIN even if BRAIN malfunctions."

side effects from the little granules of this pill remain but are slowly disintegrating. the medicine definitely seems to remove the emotion attached to physicality, but reinforce or strengthen emotions related to daily life.

there had been an instance of lowered mood due to a disagreement with another person. the issue was not a big deal, but this medicine seemed to exacerbate the bad feeling. this was a minor argument with another person, and we cannot both be happy with whatever outcome will be the final decision. after a normal amount of time to cool down and reluctantly come to terms with how 'our situation' will exclude one of us, i couldn't seem to shrug it off. it was not a typical or cyclical depression, and all esteem or rationale seemed to take a dive. i felt as though the pill pushed me into feeling suicidal over a situation where 'a final agreement would not be perfect for everyone involved.'

i went from walking around a store with invalid friend chuck, to supporting myself over the yellow handle of a shopping cart in best buy, totally overcome with DEATH metaphor. as though defeated by chronic illness, i stood there somewhat forcing myself to breathe out of my mouth, totally weighed down with the 'problem' of how to remove every footprint i had ever placed on earth. however impractical, i needed to not just die, but also fully erase history within the minute.

chuck and i prodded through the episode and tried to distract DEATH metaphor through work. we got in the car and drove to malibu via dirt roads in the santa monica mountains. an hour later and while scouting a property management location out in the middle of nowhere, mood significantly improved. obviously the chemical experience was ending, but the surrounding wildflowers and the cerulean color of the ocean view proved calming and beneficial.

later, during what can only be described as a "time lapse" or "flip book cartoon" type of vision disturbance, the adverse effects of this medicine proved relentless. not only were "frames" of sight missing, so that life was like jerkily watching an old fashioned cartoon, but tiny akathisias also removed the "fullness" of physical feelings. ["place your left hand to your right arm for ten seconds, but only experience a sporadic sensation of touch for a total of seven seconds.]

this drug or its akathisia also provided for a loss of proprioception and a chance to concentrate or double think movement. [example: "the floor on which i walked could not consistently be felt. this was not quite like walking on a cloud, but it felt as though eyes and brain were detached from the body. i needed to walk slow and confirm the floor ahead of me before acting on each step."] another way to describe this is to say relevant sensory information seemed delayed while routed to and from the brain. in a physical sense, that normal combination of movement and thought were disrupted. additional senses were required to perform or confirm physical exercises.

[- weekend holiday in central america goes here -]