And Now For Something Completely Different...

I wrote this almost a year ago. I was acting kinda crazy, and Randall suggested I write about it. (For those of you just tuning in, Randall is a pseudonym for the faceless someone I love who is no longer with me). Reading in retrospect... Maybe I am crazy. But I'm wondering if this makes sense to anyone but me. I thought it might be appropriate to post in a blog about music, just because... well... Anyways, here goes.


You are no longer the little girl in glasses. This is obviated by the fact that the little girl in glasses would have had no difficulty trying to write this all out, as it would constantly be dancing before her eyes every time she closed them. There was a time that everything that ever happened to you was so alive in the present that it was actually continuing to play itself out in your habits and patterns and the actual mechanical workings of your every day life. And they were circular. It was a serpent swallowing its tail. It was cold and it was ugly and it was sad, yet you still somehow perceived it "beautiful." For you, mostly sad.

In your consciousness you have not detached from what happened THEN. Your past is still metaphysically connected to your present, literally still alive, because you harbor it and keep it very much alive and well in your powerful human brain. After a point, it's kind of deliberate- you want to see it gratified or worked out in the physical, and refuse to let go till that happens. Do you see how this is “circular?” You are still the same person doing the same things in different situations because you can't move past your inability to deal with it the first time. Usually it was some sick and soul-surrendered adult who had a responsibility to love you but couldn't, serving a child a platter of worthlessness, insecurity, inadequacy, loneliness, and longing that continues to plague the child's stomach for life. The child becomes an adult, walking around sick and unable to care for anyone else, refusing to just vomit up what they were given for fear of being hungry again, not willing to trust that God will be there with the proper restorative nourishment. This is how generational curses are established, because people feed their own children what they were fed as children which is what their grandfather was fed and so on. (The sins of the father flow down to the son, as downhill a poisonous river will run, with contaminant mothers to birth up their daughters like pulling some dead thing up out of the water.) And what the child wants is for whatever is in his stomach to just settle already, to break down and digest, to process and pass so that they can feel better and move on to consume something else.

But that which was force-fed to you as a child was the tail of your serpent self. The deep beginnings of that part of you that exists in death. Your mouth is stretched wide around it, eternally agape and full of itself, your own south side causing problems in your throat.

So what's the story? Does it taste good, or something? Do you revel in the feeling of choking on the lowliest parts of your own vile nature? It must be spectacular to give up the idea of ever experiencing or enjoying everything else. No, it's very plain, I'm sure. Your nostrils are free, so you can still... well, isn't that half of taste anyway, is smell? The awareness of a presence you can never see, touch, feel, hear... Which everyone reacts to differently and to varying degrees, even to the point where some deny that they even perceive its existence. And even combined with any of the senses, it is still its own singular form of perception. You can see smoke... You can hear a perfume bottle spraying, feel it land on your skin. But none of the more tactile physical senses are so ...subtil... The person who ruined any sense of an enjoyable group atmosphere in the van can be the only one who says he doesn't smell anything at all and no one can REALLY argue.

Scent is that awareness you have of something you cannot taste. And it is a nonphysical impression of the essence of the “chemical reaction” between whatever IT is, and humans. The task at hand is to figure out exactly what that scent is, where it's coming from, and what is the proper way to react to it.

But enough about your autonomous nostrils and their freedom to perceive the presence of something outside of the circle you form with your tail in your mouth. What of the tail itself? I can't imagine it would have a flavor. It has no salt. It's substantial, though. It fills you all the way from your gaping maw down into the pit of yourself, coiling endlessly until it reaches itself from the inside like a twisted labyrinth of kachina dolls. But what you are taking in can't be processed, can't move through. In order for it to be removed from your body it would have to be extracted through the mouth (unless you wanna do it quicklike, and just sever the circular snake). You can't get any nourishment from it, it can't actually feed or sustain you. All it can do is ensure that you never have to perceive that you are empty.

But that sense of smell awakens your brain to the idea that something else exists. Something that is unattainable while you're still static and snared in your self-consuming cycle of stuffing your serpent-self with your own unsalted flesh.