Kiss me, I'm Irishesque

Happy P Day!


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thought

continuing
don't turn left
turn left into me
I'm all that's left
left behind
leftist, radical thoughts
left across the line
left into me
large, shuddering trailer
plunging into my depths
plunging into my mind
my physicality altered forever
I am broken

this pain makes me sick

Literally. My stomach is upset from it. I've taken pain killers but nothing. Sitting and watching a play today was too much for the poor body. Sitting hurts today-- let's hope it is better by work tomorrow.

Honestly, I feel that I will throw up. But I can't call in sick again. I try to explain my condition but how can one without sounding pathetic? I don't want pity. Well, maybe a little, but more I want compassion and a clear understanding that I will be an invalid from time to time. What can I do but try to sleep it off in Vicodin dreams?

People take Vicodin for pleasure? How can this be true? That awful drug-- if I had any other choice, I would throw them all down the toilet. What can I do? The pain is unbearable. When the only other option is to go insane, you do what you must.

I should see the doctor for a disability parking pass and to see what other pain destroying options I have. There has to be a solution.

short poems #11

anger
is
a dark grey
that wants
to be b
lack
that we seek out
just before
the migraine attacks and
all we want is that
perfect
unattainable
dark in
which we
finally, finally
can find
peace
from the pounding,
bright,
never numbing
pain

short poems #10

maybe, if I was buddhist and not raised a catholic, i would be able to believe all of this essay instead of a still believing that god has punished me even though i can’t think what a 17-year-old girl could’ve done to make him so mad as to damn her to pain throughout her entire earthly life

short poems #9

how could i write a humorpiece about something that

eats away at my sanity
?

I have had Caiaphas put in fetters.
I have had Caiaphas put in fetters.
I have had Caiaphas put in fetters.

there is nothing funny of madness
except in madness all is funny

short poems #8

every sexual act becomes masochistic

repeated motions

anything forcing the neck to jerk

scientists have found that areas of the brain that respond to feelings of pleasure also react to the sensation of pain

should i buy a whip?

short poems #7

because my
PT and MT and
acu
punturist all
had the same CD,
“Pure Moods,” and
I went to every
appointment
every week
for every month
of a whole
damn year,
those 17 tracks are
the sounds of pain-
not moaning,
not sobbing,
not screaming,
but those calming sounds that
would put anyone else
to sleep

short poem #6

if this thing were only a person of flesh and capable of pain, i would plot and carry out an elaborate plot to have it stabbed twenty-five times through the chest and buried in a lonely, ugly place where animals would eat at its corpse and nobody would ever find it and only i would know and laugh and laugh

short poems #5

how
can these
pain-afflicted artists
of yesteryear
write
with such proficiency
when in the midst
of an attack or great
despair
or necessary drunk
enness? or, if reflecting,
how can it be
that they can re
live such agony and
mimic it on the page?

how can they endure either?

short poems #4

reasons
sexuality
gluttony
hatred hatred
sex my god
is a wicked god
lack of for
give
ness
haven’t gone to church enough
parents divorced
allowing mis
treatment
killing spiders
killing ants
try harder
escape from
poverty
hatred
lust
and consummation
punishment
just desserts

what have i done?

short poems #3

Doctor Specialist Yoga Back Doctor Physical Therapy Massage Physical Therapy
Back Doctor
Walking Vicodin Personal Trainer Weight Trainer Tea Acupuncture Tai Chi Qigong
Cymbalta Herbs Ice Pad Heat Pad
Massage
Therapy
Writing writing writing writing no relief pause

short poems #2

Swallowed a seed
the seed of a tree
when I ate my orange
when I ate my orange
I ate its seed
and
now
it grows inside me
and
now it
sprouts inside me
and
now
and now it expands
throughout my arms
and my legs
and now i feel it
and it bursts
from out my finger tips
and I am
but
a stain of
red on a young tree

short poems #1

pain
athena comes bur
sting
from
my head
my hair re
placed with
biting
snakes
sisyphus carrying the boulder up
his hill
on
his back
prometheus has his liver
eaten from his side
for giving
fire
atlas with the world
on his shoulders
grows weary aches
drop it

.

let us meet the apocalypse!

.

Body

She wanted to climb the walls. 

I am Reminded

by this new Pain of the story of the birth of Siddhartha Gautama-- the supreme Buddha.  because the Vagina of a Woman is considered dirty, Birth Blood the dirtiest of all, and Birth the most Painful experience of a person's Life, the details of Buddha Gotama's Birth is very important in Buddhism. 

his Mother, Maya, dreamt of a White Elephant with 6 tusks entering Her side on the Night that Gotama was Conceived.  as per Tradition, Maya traveled to Her Home country to give Birth, but did not make it in time, even though Gotama was within Her Womb for 10 months.

when the Time for Her baby's Birth came, Maya was cradled by the Trees and, as She stood, the future Buddha came from out Her side and was Born.  he walked from out of Her and proclaimed who he Would Become.

Maya died seven days later.

perhaps this Pain means that a Baby, and a Great one at that, will come from out my side.  a part of me Hopes to be dispelled from this Life as well, and be Reborn, as Maya, in Tusita Heaven.

Hallucination vs. Dream

Hallucinations are usually "drug or event inspired". A bad hallucination may come about if the person is taking medication (legal or illegal) causing the brain sensors to "imagine" things.

Dreams is the brain releasing "stress" through imagining more [sic]plesant things but not always.

--

One thing I can think of off the top of my head is that one way to get hallucinations is through activation of 5-HT2a receptors (this is what all hallucinogenic drugs do). This certainly isn't occurring during dreaming...

--

A hallucination, in the broadest sense, is a perception in the absence of a stimulus. In a stricter sense, hallucinations are defined as perceptions in a conscious and awake state in the absence of external stimuli which have qualities of real perception, in that they are vivid, substantial, and located in external objective space. The latter definition distinguishes hallucinations from the related phenomena of dreaming, which does not involve wakefulness; illusion, which involves distorted or misinterpreted real perception; imagery, which does not mimic real perception and is under voluntary control; and pseudohallucination, which does not mimic real perception, but is not under voluntary control.^[1] Hallucinations also differ from "delusional perceptions", in which a correctly sensed and interpreted genuine perception is given some additional (and typically bizarre) significance.

--

I have used "dream" and "hallucination" too interchangeably. I should try to explain. You see, I have used a dream dictionary to speak of illusions existing in a physical space. Therefore, the illusions were hallucinations, very much Vicodin dreams.

I see the person I know to be "me" externally, outside the window or across the room, and the events span a wider space. I see the car accident on my street.

But no, the space is so altered that it maybe cannot be real space at all but based in the mind. Yet I am awake, and it is the drug's fault. Shall I call it an "imagination" ? But my imagination, I imagine (enough with the puns...), is full of glitter and fantastic creatures and light that is bright but does not hurt the mind. The imagination is a place of hope, even when it depicts sorrow.

I want to believe that these images are external. The man who came to stab me so often in my non-reality. It felt real, and my eyes were open to take in his details. I do not want to believe the stubble on his chin or that hateful look in his eyes came from my mind.

Let's say it came from the "mind" of the Vicodin. Or the mind that created Vicodin. A cruel creator that purposefully added a side-effect.

I cannot get the image of the bleeding monkey from my mind. If only I could properly verbalize the experience of his pain, which was so real but not true, then people would stop looking at me knowing that I am crazy, to some degree. Comfort comes in knowing that we all are, and we are not lonely.

A selfish thought.


Note: Remind me, I should examine House M.D. He has brought chronic pain to the public eye.

to put it plainly

I have a new pain lately. The past few days. It has something to do with the cartilage between my ribs. Nothing to do with the other pain except in their blending. It extends the region of distraction. My mind is ineloquent, never verbose. The one thought is "pain." The word and the feeling. "It hurts," and it does hurt. A pairing of experience and the existence of a decent describing turn of phrase that comes down to a few grunts.

Sadly, this new pain too has become bearable. After one day, it no longer drew my attention away from the necessities of my work.

And I feel proud that I have pain tolerance. This is the sort of insane thing that gets me through the day.

continued...

as always

Strange Narcotic dreams. Can they be interpreted as the dreams of a saner mind? Let me tell you about the nightmare I recently witnessed. I was not in this dream, but this dream was in me- inside my unconscious brain. I will explain the strange events that befell one who was not me but probably somehow was me. I must make sure to ask a psychiatrist at some point.

....

It was from work that my body fell to pain. I had cleaned a house, a big house with many floors and many floors to clean. It may not have been big enough to call a mansion, but it was definitely marked with its excessive cost. This was a house of braggary, not love, and the owners exhibited such capitalistic and hateful tendencies.

She handed me my paycheck- hand to hand without even an envelope to protect me from the dirtiness of the cultural necessity. Money dirtying my already filthy hands. Her hands were beautiful, white and smooth and without the scars that mine bear.

She smiled at me. 'Poor thing,' I could imagine her thinking, 'She probably is not clever enough to even recognize my charity.' As though the extra dollar or two made any difference, not to my expenses or my aching, groaning back.

"Be careful driving home," she said. "I know how much trouble you Asians have."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I meant something else, something sinister that would have lost me both my job and my self respect.

But when I went to my car, I found it rolling backwards down the hill leading away from the enormous home. It threw itself, faster and faster, downward, and I ran, with the thought that I could keep it from causing any damage if only I could catch up with it. And I did catch it, once, but it would not stop with just my weight against its massive force.

It continued with me only standing and watching with nothing else to do, until it stopped in the garage of another man's house: open, thank God.

I ran to catch up and found the man standing, staring at the car that might have been his demise. Yet, though there had been no noise, there had been an injured party. At the front of my tiny vehicle, beneath its front left tire, lay a bleeding snow monkey.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I must have forgotten my emergency brake." Carefully and slowly, I brought the car backward and freed the poor monkey. She was certainly alive but bled heavily. A dark purplish blood that matched the color of my car.

"Yeah," the man said, "I noticed."

I removed my jacket and wrapped it tightly around the poor animal, whispering sweet noises that sounded animal to my mind. "You'll be alright," I concluded.

"If you don't want me to call the cops," the man said, "I'll need $300. And $200 for the monkey."

Another man seemed to apparate, I have no concept of from where, and added, "And $300 for me- to keep quiet."

The monkey looked up at me with a pitiful face that knew. She could understand everything that had transpired, I could tell, and she felt sorry for me- that poor creature that had endured such pain knew that I was a fellow pain sufferer. We were both separate from the world in that, and in the strange society that somehow was the norm, in which we had both ended up somewhere we did not belong. We both looked East, I knew, and sighed with longing.

....

What would be the key words to look up in a dream dictionary? From the Curious Dreamer.

Car accident:

Being in an accident (car, airplane, train, etc.) can mean:

• You're afraid of something catastrophic happening that's out of your control
• You're feeling things are out of control somehow in your life right now
• You feel or fear bad luck or things not going your way

Note: Obviously the first two are true. I was certainly not in control of my pain or I'd not have taken the Vicodin in the first place. And I feel most unfortunate to have such a terrible ache.

Monkey:

Playfulness, resourcefulness, ingenuity, companionship, community. Dreaming of this animal can represent:

• Having too much of one of these qualities, or that you could benefit by being less this way
• Not having enough of one of these qualities, or that you could benefit by being more like this
• Someone or something in your real life with whom you associate one of these qualities (an event, situation, threat, etc.)

For more clues, pay attention to what the animal was doing or any particular characteristic that stood out.

Note: Maybe not having enough community- such as my strong desire to belong to a chronic pain support group? Perhaps it does not have to do with pain?

Money:

Money (bills, coins, a check, etc.) can represent value or "currency" of some kind (monetary, mental/emotional, effort, energy, or other things of value)—something you tend to give and receive in your life.

Paying money or people demanding money can mean you feel that life—or something in it—feels very demanding right now, or that people are wanting things from you.

Winning money or someone is giving you money can mean you'd like for this to happen in real life, or you're feeling fortunate in your life right now, or someone has actually been generous to you.

Someone owing you money can mean you feel that person "owes you" or is indebted to you somehow—or that you have given more to this person in your relationship than you have received back.

Note: Demanding-ness of pain? But I also got money- very confusing...

Cleaning:

Cleaning, sweeping, wiping up, polishing, waxing, etc. can have many different meanings, depending on context. Some possibilities include:

• Getting rid of unwanted things, feelings, thoughts, situations, etc., or a desire to do so
• A desire to make things more neat and orderly in your physical, emotional, mental world
• Making improvements somehow in your life, or a desire to do so
• Denial, trying to "erase" facts, trying to get rid of feelings or evidence, etc.
• Cleaning up other people's messes, fixing their problems, coming to their rescue, or supporting their irresponsibilities

Note: Wanting to get rid of unwanted pain, I guess.

It was a strange dream...

Intensified

She'd like to believe that she's grown accustomed to the feeling- the shoulder blades protruding awkwardly from her skin and the bleeding that continuously seeps through her shirt. It is difficult to imagine that some degree of tolerance has not been attained, it must have been grasped away and greedily consumed. She is a vain thing and gives in to compliments that aren't compliments at all. "You have a high pain tolerance," they say and she smiles, believing herself mighty.

What can it matter, when on days such as this one, she is folded into an upside-down U in her physical agony? When the pain appears any different than the usual ache, she is lost unto her very self and becomes another that is not an I but an it. Dreary non-existence as a human being.

migraine

migraine

migraine issssssssshhhhhhhhh
just let's us be quiet for a little while
speak with our still motions
take my hand and feel all the pain that's ever been felt
that's how you know

migraine isssssssshhhh
your words are too bright
and my brain is a library
full of noisy angry children
taking things out and ripping pages up

migraine is
the only time
i remember my dreams

migraine is sh
existence enough is enough
sickness
hurts
and everything more than a whisper
in speech in motion in light in all
is too much