Previously before the world was hidden from me but in the mist of all of my pain and confusion some thing wonderful was about to happen. It was revealed to me as if I had let go of something that had been kept hidden before. Life or living seemed to be quite an amazing spectacle. There was humanity's ‘s breath on every gesture moving every where. It was the sudden vision of the World, a transient position of the body in relation to everything around it.  This was a beginning of a definition of a place that might be called the interior world to me. The place where movement was comfortable, where boundaries where stretched or obliterated: no walls, borders, language or fear.

   After my recent diagnosis I tend to dismantle and discard any and all kinds spiritual ,psychic and physical words or concepts designed to make sense of the external world or designed to give momentary comfort. It is like stripping the body of of the flesh in order to see the skeleton, the structure. I want to know what the structure of all of this is in the way only I can know it. All my notions of the machinations of the world have been built through out my life on odd cannibalization's of different lost cultures and on intuitive mythologies. I gained comfort from the idea the people could spontaneously combust and from surreal excursions into nightly dream landscapes. But all that is breaking down or is being severely eroded by my own brain; it’s like tipping a bottle over on it’s side and and watching the liquid contents drain out in slow motion. I am suddenly resisting comfort, from my self and especially others. There is something that I want to see clearly, something I want to witness in it’s raw state.

 Do you understand what I am saying? I am busy distancing myself from this world and this environment in order to know what I feel and what I can find. I am trying to see what is underneath it all. I’m hungry and this external world of falseness won’t satisfy my hunger. I ‘m a prisoner of a language that doesn’t have a letter or a sign or a gesture that approximates what I am sensing or what I am trying to say.

I am a bundle of contradictions that shift constantly. ….

sometimes I don’t think about this illness for hours but then with each nights dose of medicine or the cute stranger  smiling across the room reminds me in a clearer than clear way that this illness is very real. 

I feel so alien………

  I sat the other night in the church. It was dark and very quiet. I just sat there listening to the sound of my own body breathing. And I could feel  it…. Life….. it was all around me like I was immersed in a warm body of water. And I was aware of this life and living and I was witnessing it all breath around me. It was like a long distance runner who suddenly finds himself alone in the woods among the trees and the light and the sights and the sound of his friends that are way back in the distance. Everything exists at once in that moment. The past, present, future all of it. Behind me are the friends that have died and ahead of me are the ones who have yet to be born. Time is now compressed. It is everything and nothing…..

These days I see the edge of mortality everywhere.

 

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