Monday, April 26, 2010

Tossing and Turning

April 25, 2010. Sunday. 11:20 PM. Fear of whatever was said or done mindlessly, regret about crazy talk and behavior, fear of not being able to achieve what you set out to do, so sorry, I’ll try not to do it again.

So much effort and what is the result? Are you fooling yourself? Do you really think you have what it takes to succeed as a surreal, midnight crazy secretary of spirit mumbling? Are you able to make pictures come to life? Are the images static, mausoleum and waiting room material? I make this confession after brushing teeth and walking across the old gray carpet on concrete. Don’t lose your nerve. Don’t think. Get into bed and forget about it. Go to sleep.

Did you grumble too much? Are you going to toss and turn all night in regret about foolish words and selfish behavior? Such suffering is useless, unless it causes you to become patient, understanding, generous and cheerful. I resolve to look upwards, to plunge my gaze into the deep blue sky, to see through clouds, rather than to shuffle along, moping, gazing into holes and peering under rocks, although that could be quite interesting. Instead of sliding into the snake pit and wallowing in misery, I will attempt to climb that rock hill over there and survey the horizon.

This is how Lohbado could return to life, after his grave decent into the world of tormented spirits, angry demons, terrified zombies and stupefied half-worm half-human mutate conflict.

Are you afraid to expose your ignorance, aggression and hungry ghost-like qualities? Too late, the footprints of craving lie between the images, the secret hope of vanishing into a blissful paradise or dissolving into a realm of euphoric dreams. You screwed this one up big time. Too late to go back; the ink was spilled. No use crying over psychotic gibberish. Leave the dead to the worms and don’t trouble your mind anymore. The best thing would be to relax, mind your own business, stay out of trouble and enjoy yourself as the brief span of life races to its little ending. Before you know it, the bubble will pop. It happens to everyone. Nobody gets special treatment.

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