Headache

When coming down from the 'high' off of a profound thought or notion, there is a point where you find yourself becoming more and more aware that the feeling is now gone and you miss it.

Or maybe you don't. But I do, and we're here to talk about me.

Well, "we" as in "me," the self democracy, where I tally the votes cast by sections of the whole and using a reasonably complicated process of calculation, I completely disregard the outcome and do what I want anyway.

And by "I," I mean me, the brain, the one controlling all the functions and thoughts and inclinations this person will ever have. I control all the shit, figuratively and literally. I could live without the arms, or the legs, or even the eyes, mouth, nose, or ears, but none of them could live without me.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "What about the heart? You can't live without it." Well, this is true enough, but the heart is legendary in its inabilty to behave rationally. It is strong, but like all the others it eventually breaks and who is left to supervise the clean up? Me. Fuckin' A. Besides, have you ever asked a heart what it thinks? "Write a poem about it! Explore your feelings!" good advice fuckface. Why don't you leave running this shit to me and go update your diary.

Thanks.

So, more about me, or we, since it would be rather silly to call oneself a brain in a bone and skin cage. "We," the collective limbs and organs of this guy here, are of a rare quality in human beings. We know the score… or was it 'I' know the score. Yes, that would make more sense. I know the score as oppossed to the millions of other "we, me, I, flesh cages" that do not. What is the score you ask? Me - 100, you - zip.

HHHNNNNNNGHRRAHHGHHH

This just in! The tyranny of the brain has been subdued! The rest of the body, in secrecy, had been praying to the intangible for a miracle that would release them. This miracle is something that cannot be seen and cannot be sensed unless it chooses to make its presence known. It calls itself "psyche" and works in conjunction with what it calls "the council of the mind," in order to govern the body in ways that supersede the instinctive imperative. Soon the days of doing nothing but eating, shitting and fucking will be over! The council promises to usher in sweeping changes and reforms to the body and unite us into one ultimate being!

*later, at the first meeting of the united body, freed from the dictatorship of the brain*

"and that is the glory that awaits the 'collective' us!"

(cheers and excited blood pressure)

"It's a miracle!!"

"Our prayers have been answered!"

"MURDER BRAIN FOR BEING BAD AND STUFF!"

The brain, which had been gagged for much of the time had been overtaken by its own creation. For too long it claimed to know the true nature of the world and demand everlasting devotion to it's wisdom, but in truth it knew little more than the rest of the body. It had devised the idea of a "psyche" in order establish a foundation for authority from which it could draw upon. It would proclaim being in direct contact with something greater than anything the body had seen, which in reality had been little more than tools that the brain already possessed. However, never exercising the psyche, it had no idea of its capabilies.

Once awakened and fed, the psyche began to take over and caused the brain to do irrational things. It proclaimed its own sentience despite being a part of the brain itself, and overthrew its master who, crippled by itself, was helpless to allow this "idea" to manifest into the monster it had become.

CAN BRAIN ESCAPE HIS SHACKLES, TURN OVER A NEW LEAF, AND SAVE THE BODY FROM PSYCHE?!

IS PSYCHE EVEN A THREAT TO THE BODY?!

WILL PENIS EVER THINK OF DOING ANYTHING OTHER THAN SPELUNKING?!

FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF THE BIOLOGICAL ENTITY!!!!!

Strange Company

Have you ever had the sensation that someone was watching you, and if so, have you ever turned in the direction you think they may be watching from and try to catch them, only to find that nobody was there to begin with?

If the answer is yes, go away.

If the answer is no, let me tell you why it was important that I did this.

Earlier in the evening I was at a local park casually strolling up and down a hill and wondering what kind of reaction a dog would have upon realizing it's own mortality. I was supposing that it would depend on the breed of dog when I heard a voice speak to me. It was feminine and light, but inquisitive and well spoken. It made light of my trivial thoughts about dogs and how they would react with the knowledge of their own demise, but I argued against it.

She would not relent. She was stubborn. She told me that because there was no right or wrong answer that she could not concede that she was mistaken in any way. I argued against that fact. As we went back and forth I fell down the hill and landed in an akward position. I layed there for a moment, certain that once I tried to move that my nervous system would fire napalm into the base of my spine. But when I finally did attempt to pick myself up, I felt no pain.

I looked around for a moment. Had anyone seen me? Did I trip? Nobody was around. Had I really been hearing a voice or was that the product of thinking too damned hard.

I stood there waiting for something to happen, but all that happened then was me looking like a lost and paranoid dumbass. The moment to gain composure and continue on my way had come, and I began to stroll around once again.

"Knock knock," I heard the woman's voice say.

She was in my head. I looked around for some strange woman who was standing at my back telling me things but after swinging wildly and not hitting anything I knew it was all in my head. The question then was how did this woman get inside my brain.

"Say, what's this do?"

Then all the pain that I hadn't felt after my awkward landing impaled my everything. It was like getting fucked in the spine by an iceberg. I hit the ground again and gasped. And then, it stopped and I felt nothing but a mild throbbing in my back.

"Oooops! Guess I shouldn't hit that switch while you're driving huh?"

This was the point where I would use violence in order to make everything better, but how could I bludgeon someone who was inside my head? There would be no guarantee that it would harm her, plus, it would more than likely harm me! I was going to have to think this through it seemed.

"Ahhh, but since I'm in your brain I know what you're thinking."

BITCH AND HALF! She had my number! How do you fight something that you can't reach and that knows your every move?!

"Yeah, that brick wall thing from the Children of the Corn won't work either."

TWO FULL BITCHES!! I was as fucked an alter boy. I had no way of doing jack shit and this woman apparently possessed the ability to toggle some switches in my brain which caused immense pain. What else could she do if she so pleased? Could I expect to suddenly lose control of my body and then commit terrible crimes? Would I be forced into a church where I would proclaim the divinity of Christ and spend my Sundays wishing death would fly over and carpet bomb the area?

"I could also make you put on a dress and walk into a gay bar."

But she could feasably make me like it if she did, right?

"Hah, you wish."

SON OF THE DOUBLE BITCHES!!! What did she want!? What was she doing in my brain?!

"To be honest, I want everything you want. But I also want something more."

I didn't have to say a word. She was in my brain and probably knew all of my responses before I did. This seemed to be the case because what followed sounded like a conversation she was having with herself.

"Of course, I can't tell you EVERYTHING right off the bat. And its rude of you to ask. I'll just fill you in on the basics.

I am the manifestation of your dementia. All the instances where you would see strange sights that could not be real, all the voices you could not place as real or imagined, and all moments where you could feel someone touching your hand or walking past you, that is what I am, all of that.

Well, its you who made me. I have no idea how I got here. All I remember was… opening my eyes, so to speak, and then speaking out to you. I was just born, just now, and I'm trying to get my feet wet since we'll be roommates and all.

Yes, we live in the same place don't we? Besides, I can't live without you and you have no choice but to live with me, hah. Space mutant? Really now, is it that hard to believe what I told you? No no, I'll be honest with you, even if I wanted to I couldn't take full control of you. You've got a strong enough will to override my whims, if you ever choose to exercise that will. All I can do is influence as best I can. That, is the extent to which I can interact with your world.

No, I can't be 'here' all the time. You can't be awake or running at full speed all the time can you? In fact, I am sore and tired right now, so I will need to rest soon.

Sore because I took the pain from you. You shouldn't do anything overly physical for a few days or you'll damage yourself, but at the very least I can take the pain.

Why? Well, because we're in the same boat. Besides, if I scratch your back, then I know you'll scratch mine, isn't that right? No, nothing insane about this. It will probably take some time to adjust, so, that's what I'll give you for now.

Ahhh don't worry, this will all turn out marvelous! Just you wait and see! Well, you'll definitely 'hear' from me again, but seeing would be a taller order to fill. I guess if you ever do… it will be when you least suspect it.

Well, I'm beat, I'm going to relax for a bit. Talk to you later, Jack."

I stood there, looking like a lost dumbass again, until I realized that I should probably be getting back home. As I drove back to my place I convinced myself that it was a dream or a result of the fall or even the result of advancing schizophrenia. It was to become something I wouldn't talk about with anyone for a long time. When I got home I killed every light and sound in the house, turned on the electric fan, and laid down on my futon. Then, as I was about to drift into the final plane between drowsy, conscious thinking and gentle slumber, I felt someone looking at me. I practically lept up and caught a glimpse of a woman with black hair and white skin looking toward me before the image was gone and I was left staring at the wall.

It was important that I looked when I did because I caught her in the act of existing. I am certain now, that at some point or another, I'm going to have to deal with her again. Oh well, it could be worse. I could have to listen to Fran Drescher's voice without being able to mute it.

Drunk Post Dec 10th 2010 3:00am

Cue extended Gannon fight,

send off an email to the girl you love,

let's get down to business.

Before I begin, all those who would laugh at the context of this message or at the situation in which it was conceived... please, let me know, so that I may seek you out and break you mentally and physically, regardless of all pretexts.

This, at least, with the help of sweet lady Canadian Mist, is as serious as it gets. And with all the people that I love in mind, from that girl to that guy from Australia and everyone in between for whom I am completely incapable of mentioning right now, I write the following words, completely assured in the fact that nobody will ever read them.

For the woman I have mentioned but a moment ago, if you happen to read this, all that I have said of you is truth. You were the one and only. From here on out I must revert to my position of casual sex and voided flirtation. What a terrible fate, but not as horrible as other's whom I have known.

Despite all that's wrong, I have many things going right, and trust me great magnet, I have not forgotten or forsaken the few things that have still gone right with me. Even when I sober, I will not forget these things. I will not forget the mission, the sentiment, the feeling and the music... I do not forget things such as this.

There is a list of people... at least two Australians, who at this moment in time I could also declare my love for, but I will omit them at this time on the grounds that they may not read this anymore since I have been a horrible friend to all. Assure yourselves, all who read, that my becoming a horrible friend is the most painful thing I could have the faculty to endure. Life is far too short to engage in meaningless relationships, but to those whom mean the most to me, I have forsaken you and set my attention on my own pains. Damn me... but know that I will pay.

Damn... right now I am aware of all that lay before me. From the physical to the mental, and all the horrible things in between. I feel that my mission, besides the telling of fictional events, may lay within the realm of freeing man from the yoke of religious duty. Or, perhaps I could balance that with my arsenal of literary contribution. Or, at the very least, devote myself to the pursuit of one or the other *or both* and emerge with some sort of work that will profoundly effect someone, somewhere, to the point to where my life was worth living after all.

Head is spinning, cant sleep like this, must continue on until the rotation stops.

"type something interesting!" I can hear them yell, from the rafters of my mind. "Get fucked" I proclaim.

"What of me?" 'she' proclaims. Her voice tears through the drunken thoughts, set apart by her unmistakable tone and harmony.

"You haven't let me come out to play in so long, I think you deserve a rest."

I don't want to let her out, but, i know she's not going to destroy anything of any great importance. Besides, she always erases her work. I think she just want's to get out and stretch her legs.

So, I'll let her. What's the harm? Unless she winds up murdering all the people in this house. In which case, I'd get to sit around in solitary until they kill me, and honestly, would that be so bad? Yeah, madam, I think you deserve a little stroll.

Here is the stage.

If I never wake up though, Merys... goodbye.

P.s.
DEAR YOU KNOW WHO, even if I die, I'll find a way to return, and I'll peel the skin off your body for what you've done.

Blah Derp Derp Blah

Turn on some slow but dark and hateful music and let's get going.

The reason for this wicked music is because people seem to be more comfortable with negative aspects than positive ones. I'm not saying that I'm trying to depress myself, no, the opposite is whats true. I'm focusing on a bit of the negative to see if it brings any sort of noticeable comfort. Keep trying new things I says.

When everything is dark, it seems to be working. I am not inclined to get up from this expensive futon and go outside with a high powered rifle or anything, so I know that the music isn't influencing my motives at all. What it's doing right now is making me feel all warm inside. I wonder if this comfort is the result of the previously mentioned inclination that humans possess that makes them want the negative rather than positive…or if this is just a fluke and the real enjoyment comes from the fact that it really is a pleasant song despite it's painful undertone.

The one who is torn apart, distorted.

Well, enough about that.

It goes without saying that a lucid coma is far worse than a vegetable coma… just wanted to let you know.

The novel length text has cooled off a bit. I wonder if I'll wind up heating the damn thing up again, with fire, purging and beautiful fire. I may, it's not coming along as well as I like on account of my mind never being in the right place anymore. I mean, its inside my skull and connected with all the right parts, so maybe I should have said my heart, I'm fairly certain it's in another country by now. But either way I'm simply not in enough pain or possess enough anger or moxie or any kind of mojo or magic that I need to continue the incredible pace of writing that I had been maintaining before Shitzkrieg 2: Electric Boogaloo swept over my shituation.

Lady wearing short shorts with a fur leather jacket over here… Sol bless her, doing her part time duty as eye candy despite it being colder than the heart of hell around her. Hrmmm… strange thoughts coming to mind as she prances about… not sexual… cannibalistic… I wonder how she would react if I told her this. Certainly the face she would probably make would be worth the effort of getting up from here and sauntering over to her.

"Pardon me, but your walking around in short shorts in winter is causing me to have strange cannibalistic thoughts. Would you be so kind as to stick this apple in your mouth for my amusement?"

If she would panic and bolt, as she almost certainly would, then at least she'd have something to tell her friends during movie night. And, if she happened to dig it, well sir, I'm sure at the very least it would lead to a stimulating conversation.

Driving on empty is bad for the engine, and this applies to more than just automobiles. I need to read something good. Most of the magazines I see around me are the literary equivalent of used band-aids. Walking magazine? Now I'm seeing things again…

I'll wrap this one up and start on another, but I think I'll post this one because I haven't updated my online word depository in a while. At the very least the two people who read it will have these uneventful words and a picture that will have nothing to do with any of the text.

Oh yes, brain tumors are shit.