Saturday, June 27, 2009

brain pain, childhood wasn't so great, micheal, move on. jeez. peter pan was IMMATURE

These thoughts come and they are persistent: perhaps blogging them will make them less intrusive and I can have a nice quiet Saturday writing legal breifs.

Persistent thoughts:

Get rid of Farrah Poem.

Then two articulable reasons why not to.

Her "journey" resonated with me and that's past post irony. I couldn't even talk to kids who preferred her or jacklyn smith to kate jackson growing up. I had no use for any of them really but thinking that Kate jackson was the only cool one was very fundamental . i vividly remember being with my sister in the elevator of our Jerusalem apartment ,31 years ago. We had just left the apartment of some girls that we'd been encouraged to socialize with and I vividly remember feeling heartsick as we waited to go down to the fifth floor to where we lived( they lived on the 9th floor. i remeber this and the exact adress too(Elroi 5 or hamesh)I remember feeling heartsick with my sister in this elevator because these girls we just "socialized' with loved farrah and Cheryl Ladd more than Kate Jackson and I was so disturbed how they could have felt such very wrong feelings. I remember feeling sad for me and my sister and knowing this was just to be one of the times we "couldn't relate" and I was not mistaken. And, in retrospect, I remember projecting this way too deep dissapointment onto my sister. When I tell her this now she doesn't remember this at all so it was projection, probably. Even writing this I'm sure she was feeling the same thing because she's my default soulmate, see. I need to believe that she sees the same things and thinks the same things to exist. And, that leads to my new soulmate theorum(Ha!) that will be maybe in some other post at some time somewhere.

How is my front gums, you ask?

Still swollen but compared to yesterday.... heavenly.

Journeys resonating sounds awful to me but watching that special and how she kept fighting this terrible sounding cancer and how of course we all fight. Very rarely do you hear about a person who just lied in the fetal position for more than a day or two. So, it's not the "fighting" but the universal poetry that plagues me... that of... unrealized mercy. I don't know what to call it but it's an theorum(ha!) that stays with me and it's based on this belief that might be pure illusion and this belief is that life should and does provide mercies that it very well doesn't have to and that we count on them to survive.
Say, yesterday, I had to take my mother to the dentist and she forgot the date and the receptionist or assistant still let my mother come and this is really great because these things cost thousands of dollars(root canal) and this was free ,because of paperwork and my mother forgetting this could have been a disaster. But, it wasn't and she was told to come in anyway. Now, I had to drive her because she'd be given anasthesia possibly etc. So, what felt certain to become an intolerable turn of events just reversed course and then I'm taking my mother there and my own teeth that have been bothering me on and off start killing me. And, all the teeth on the right side of my mouth are inflamed and when touched I recoil in agony. Still I keep touching them.

So, this makes me think a thousand or more thoughs which if forced to summarize, I'd say, would be: Is there infinite mercy? Is there actual mercy or just the illusion of it and how counting on it is what enfeebles so many. Then I'm thinking less universally for a sec: Will I get one week of just unfettered peace ever? Did I in the past have more peace and what happened? Is this series of unrelenting aches a sign that the end is near or is it just nothing more than a series of unending aches and why the irony of my teeth hurting so as I sit in this very fancy Endontist's office. And, then how I've never had to think about what an Endontist does and who does these namings? And on wall there is the fruitiest picture possible of Ashton Stinkin Kutcher and he looked as dumb as shit and it's a headshot type thing with a letter to this Endontist saying " Hi Endontist(insert name) "Light" Signed, Ashton.
Since this isn't a proper diary I will leave out the names of the unfamous and Ashton didn't write "Signed" But only "Light" and then his fruity name, and my teeth were killing me and this prick Ashton Kutsher is writing "Light" to this Endontist and I realized again why I'd written a poem upon hearing of the death of Farrah Fawcett-- Because she must have felt similar sentiments(not about Ashton or endontists but about mercy) when she learned of her absurdlier than ordinary sounding Cancer and she must have thougth that her symettry or blonde hair and blue eyes would save her in the end. Meanhile this doctor who is basically giving my mother charity is treating me and my mother like we are doing him a favor and commenting non stop how we are blonde and blue eyed. He's Iranian etc.

And, a simulation of such thoughts continued as did the pain in my teeth and these thoughts were about teeth and how there are so many of them that can act up at any time and how if you are not prepared can sink you and then... can you be sunk???? And then I begged or prayed or whatever it is you do silently to some entity that can't be confirmed and these prayers or pleas were, " Let this pain in my teeth go away because I can't stand it right now. Not just the pain but the impotence-- how did I get to a point where a toothache represents so many unbearable states of affairs. And this drippy Asian woman Betty is on CNN in the Endontist's office and she is just not very bright from what I can tell and I'm sick of Michael Jackson courage and can keep thinking " Poor Farrah, Poor Iranians, Poor World," And then on the way down to put money in the meter I think if God just takes away this terrible pain in my teeth I'll be happy and within milliseconds of this thougth I remember how that never happens-- That some other pain always comes to take the place of the other pain and then I talk to people outside and they seem to not think of anything much more than their lunches and I can't be sure of this and this could all be more snotty assumption by me and just because they sound dumb and have dumb looking eyes....

And, then my sweet funny mother is upset that my teeth are bothering me though I keep reminding myself to stop making any face or indication that this pain is bad and that it's there and that any solution is really out of the question without going deeper into debt and then I feel bad that my mother even knows about it as why burden anyone really ever but then one would risk total alienation and then... my mother remembers some wash she got from a doctor years ago and she gives it to me and I wake up this morning and the pain in my teeth is completely gone.

Mind you, there is now pain in my gums right below my front teeth but it's much less painful that the stuff that was going on with my right side teeth just yesterday. And, so I'm faced with another "miracle" and still I know that from head to toe zillions of things can go hurting and that I can only afford to love very few people because really loving someone means you will feel their pain and I can't afford any more people to love. My love calender is full at 2 and everytime that number goes up I make sure it's only temporary. And, that's the last pre-mortem farrah fawcett poem motivation analysis that is available possibly.... ever. But, feel free to search the internet. It is entirely possible that this is happening everywhere with farrah poems and hurting teeth.

All the while I need to publish my three new book ideas hich means I have to write thise book and send them out to thousands before anyone might consider them and then I need to do my youtubes and my shows and my musicals and help my sister and mother and sue all those vicious beasts, and then my surefire plan to raise SNL from irrelevance. And, then I still am working on my revenge equation-- which is relatively simple and very primal and is based on some theorum(Ha!) where the offense so far surpasses the concievable and therefore is the beef that will stay in my craw until some conceivability is evident and this goes back to my book idea or just gimmicky idea which is ancient wisdom paraphrased for modern times and reminds me of Socrates again, "Thinking makes it so."
And, how all these quotes are bullshit really as their reverse holds just as true. And I think that in my revenge theorum if I were to discover that they really beleived their lies would that make their offense less egregious. I have the answer but that will have to wait.
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