it's scientifically proven that your brain lacks oxygen and reality becomes all too distorted. You become belligerent. I think it was Haiti, the practices of voodoo would bring people into a corpse like state, so they were buried alive. "Magically" after being buried, they were able to claw their ways out fresh graves, the lucky ones... half paralyzed, slurring and in some sort of trance. I could go on about it, it was a chemical extracted from the puffer fish called tetrodoxin and it's actually quite fascinating! But this is beyond the point... wait, wait... is this making sense? Didn't think so.
Brain... Brain... Brain... Brain?
For example, I stayed awake last night trying to analyze if my professor is conspiring against us with trickery in his questions. So I wrote him in depth answers about his review and how I could answer it this way, and it'd in fact be right... but if he's being deceitful, then this is this... and that is that. I'm sure I crawled into bed salivating at the mouth, only to rouse an hour later and go through the motions of this all too familiar reality. Although, I'm not poisoned by tetrodoxin and I haven't been physically buried alive... the mind is a very powerful thing and I have been burying myself for weeks.
ABCD... OMG... WTF? I'm 300+lbs
Sid and I don't normally spend our days watching tv, I think it spoils young minds and it's much more fullfilling to stomp around roaring like dinosaurs and wrestling Labradors. We somersault, bury cookie monster with paper bricks and draw pac-man on etch a sketches eating the letters S and B. Today was different though, I used the dogs like bean bags and Sid and I gave each other high fives whilst watching Dr. Oz for an hour. The special today? "How I Lost the Weight". People 330 plus pounds were crying about how miserable they were and I was just in hysterics. I have no idea how much I weigh but I do know that I haven't made the time to run so I was feeling exceptionally guilty. The people come out from behind the curtains and APPLAUSE. Little Sid just starts pointing to the tv, gasping and clapping ecstatically. I'm choking up, "Yeah, they lost 70lbs, Sid but they're still big! People still whisper about them in grocery stores." But these, these people are amazing! Sid just looks at me puzzled sits down and starts rubbing his belly and sighs. He's very intuitive for a 1 year old. I'm just out of it today. Completely.
::If you don't want to read about my struggles with World of Warcraft I suggest you skip this paragraph::
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Arena season just started and coming to the realization that I've spent over a hundred dollars on World of Warcraft for the month made me realize that there needs to be definite changes in my life. In Arena season, you pay 20 bucks to go nose to nose with the best pvp players out there. I'm a total noob. I hit 80 last month and just now started to hit the pvp bandwagon so I still have a lot to learn. But it's great, you get the most L33t gear ever and an unlimited amount of gold and free enchantments and gems. I used to make myself sick before baseball games or soccer games but it's a little ridiculous to psyche yourself out before a video game, right? But man, was I nervous. I usually stick to this plan and it's been working rather well for 'just the two of us....'. (Lame strategy description here)He DPS's and I heal. Before the arena begins, I buff our stats and cast thorns so any attack dealt to either of us, does nature damage in retrospect. I switch from my mighty tauren into a lion and stealth/prowl. I target the dps and Alex attacks healer. I cast entangling roots, stealth like pounce/stun the target. Switch to bull/ stomp stun... and morph into tree and immediately hot us all with life bloom. Then I target Alex, rejuvenate... heal.. run... cyclone... nourish, cast tranquility... turn into a cheetah... run... stomp, cyclone... hot. proc. etc.(End Lame Strategy Talk) We get into our first 2v2 in tourney and I don't even have my prowl button set up, to make matters worse? I don't even stomp or cyclone because they start ganking Alex, so forgetting that I had a bad guy targeted, I immediately start using my medallions, trinkets and super healing what I thought was Alex. WRONG! I was healing the opposing side. I don't realize it until he has like 200 hp left, I'm at full health and Alex dies. In light spirits, we vowed that if there was no way of us winning an arena bg, then we'd just emote cower and begging for death in game, and out of game? laugh as we die. But F that. I'm all about romanticism and chivalry!!! Did the Polish Calvary retreat when Germany rolled in with tanks and they were equipped with just horses and fancy shields? Hell no, they fought to the death! ::looks down:: I fought for 12 seconds and died. Mind, where did you go? I neeeeeeed you! Come back. :eyes fluttering:
Somebody Set Us Up The Bomb!
In addition to my uncanny obsessions with studying, world of warcraft and seeking out greater truths... because I have no concept of what I believe in anymore... I've also been entertaining the thoughts of nuclear holocaust. I have my plans for zombie apocalypse but after a discussion with my professor... during class, I realized that I have no backup plans for nuclear attack, so I think at my teacher's recommendation, I will rent the movie Atomic Cafe and base my conclusions after this. Radiation won't kill you immediately... and twinkies might be around, but what's going to happen to the wrapper? Are we going to starve?! What does water plagued with radiation feel like going down your esophagus, these are the things we need to think about. I saw a rendition of a man on the discovery channel drinking water in a science lab that was actually plagued with man of war venom... the actor fell to the ground and couldn't even scream. This is what I imagine radiation tastes like. It didn't kill him, but man... did he want to be dead. (Unrelated, in the same episode... a man told a story about a fish that swam up into his urethra when he was pissing in the ocean, once snugly inside his man hole... the fish expanded and thus... excruciating pain ensued. The candiru... look it up, cat fish from Hell.)
I've been looking into Buddhism a lot lately too. The concept of wiping ones mind and contentedly living a life free of desire seems really ideal to me right now. I guess it's because like a normal person, who is constantly a victim of dhukkha I find it extremely difficult to believe that solitude and ridding your life of desire is the ultimate state of bliss. (But I'd like to get there, if possible.) One thing I found absurd and contradictory was the fact that a 'devout' follower of Buddhism came in to talk to our class. I asked him, to be completely dedicated to Buddhism is there room for being in love or is it frowned upon. He told me that love was dangerous and essentially skews reality. I noticed he had a wedding ring on so I asked him, 'How does your wife feel about that?' He couldn't give me a straight answer and there was an awkward silence in class... and then we meditated for 12 minutes. I must not have done a very good job in unleashing my zen because all I could do was sit still and silently think, 'You're a liar. You're a liar You're a liar.' Which goes against Buddhist ideals as well, because you aren't allowed to judge anybody but yourself. So my attempts in tiptoeing in the shadows of Buddha... has ultimately resulted in me bitterly falling into a pit with Mara. I also have leftover bruises from a shaolin kung fu class that I took upon myself to embark in... who has time for desire when you're dodging swords, and pow powing in emaciated states? Again, my desires fell through... a need to catch my breath, better muscle endurance, concentration and... hello? Can we stop punching each other and smoke a cigarette for seven minutes?
And the Crowd Goes Wiiiiiiiiild!!!
I've been thinking about my dad a lot lately too, and how I feel like the last 5 years I've been running on an imaginary broken limb. You know what... screw the five years, I'm what... 26 now? Make that 8 years! I've been making drastic jumps from state to state skipping on impulses and kicking the ideas of conventional out of my head. Because that's not the way my brain works! When I was 12, hate to braggies but I was a pretty powerful hitter despite the size of my arms. I could hit balls over the fence when I actually took a deep breath and focused on the pitcher. Long story short? 1996, one of the homeruns I hit... was lucky enough to have the bases loaded tailing right behind the third runner, the third baseman overthrows the ball to the catcher... I'm in a pickle... but I'm fast, I can do this... third, catcher, third and it's an overthrow... pitcher runs to home plate but the catcher scrambles and doesn't catch it on time. The pitcher stands on the plate in protest, I slide in the base SAFE with the pitcher standing on the plate still, ankles collide... crack, crunch, crunch. The crowd goes wild and I try to get up and 'walk it off'. But I collapse and my dad has to carry me off the field as I laugh it off and smile for the remainder of the game. I made All Stars that year but I finished the season terribly, not just because of the air cast but because I had it in my mind that I'd just end up screwing up. Driving home from Auburn after a game loss is treacherous. Even though you high five and the winning team smiles and tells you 'good game'... you know they're all just telling you to eat shit behind clenched teeth. I don't know, I've always been running from something... never really letting my bones rest, I've always been impatient... with antibiotics and everything but it's always resulted in my dad carrying me off the field when I try 'walk it off' on my own. I don't know, like I could have stayed in Los Angeles... I had jobs, I had a place but... 'dad, I need to leave now... it hurts too much.' Yeah, if you don't know me very well, I'll admit it, I let my dad carry me home when I made stupid mistakes with men. It's kind of embarrassing but I loved the freedom of leaving for adventures in different states every three months. I guess, I never really let myself feel at home. But 2010 has been all about realizations that I have purposefully neglected to confront.
You're on my Team! There are no Teams!
I'm finally at a point in my life where nothing hurts anymore... sure, I cry for the fat people that eat their pain instead of confronting their inner struggles but tv is just one of those things, and not sleeping makes you feel deeply empathetic for strange things like hemorrhoids and the lonely guy in the arena that Alex laughed at, then shot to death while he tried to run away. Oh and don't get me started on the news, stupid people and unfortunate mishaps always make me cry. And sometimes? You feel like you're being hit by air bb's, which don't really hurt or do any damage really but they still piss you off... and you hide behind a tree, flip off your friends and don't talk to them for a bit... but really, everything seems so trivial and once the semester ends... I have a feeling there will be a major turning point for the better. I feel like a zombie a lot of times, but at the same time I feel pretty astute for the walking dead. I also understand the way I present my thoughts might come off as a bit crazy... but they're mostly said sardonically and if I could tell you what I was thinking, I'd say it with big eyes, overzealous hand gestures and a toothy grin. I guess it's all in the way one reads it though.
This is just how my brain works. Sorry, world.
