Does everyone get an 'off' vibe or is that just restricted to the more insane of the lot?
Just about recently, this 'off' vibe has been going haywire to the point that its not really that much of a joke anymore. Crazy mistrust issues and 'argh' producing feelings. Terrible to kind of know what you think isn't real and not be able to back it with the facts.
Dislikes heavy
murky brown,
taste so bitter
its rarely found...
saying anything more would be on the excessive side.
When a hand is diseased, what does one do?
cut it off completely and salvage whatever is left of the gaping red wound?
or try over years of therapy to cure the infection that is desperate to claw its way to the body as a whole?...
now, i am no medical student... duh... but it sounds as though the safer option would be the former... but i dont know about the saner aspect of it, keeping the importance of the hand in mind.... probably in a real case...where mangled remains of a hand will be tangible... important people in clever-people glasses would scratch their heads with yellow pencils or blue gel pens, weigh the pros and cons of both... analyse the disease and its probability of getting cured by X miracle drug and then... then carefully suggest treatment....
'Lets wait for a few months Ms. S, it may turn out that the hand may not need to be cut after all. Its just these few dicey months that we have to get through.'and pat Ms S on the back and move on. Literally and mentally to another person, another case, another back to pat and hope to hand out. (sigh, the irony of it all)
(and now i note a new arrival)
Me- Dear Sensation-In-Stomach
we havent met for simply ages!
How have things been? wherever it is that you have been...
Sensation-In-Stomach- oh this and that have kept me busy..(evasive)
Me- Months ago you turned up in the oddest way, but then it meant something else and now it remains sheer paranoia. or thats what you lead me to believe. its not the physical disintegration of my 20 year old body, i know. its not that which you come to alert me of (or is it?... that paranoia talking again... apologies)...
Sensation-in-Stomach- maybe that its time to grow up and leave what is petty aside. not swirl it around each morning in the cup of milk with the cornflakes... never really wanting to gulp it down.
so stop the swirling and either chuck the cup into the bin or well, wait for a few more uncomfortable minutes and then chuck the cup in the bin. for face it, the cup WILL be chucked in the end and by the same hands which cradle it now.
Me- you, Sensation-In-Stomach, what is the meaning of this?
you invading my life in this unseemly fashion (i argue prudishly i know)
I Think- i know what you will say before those lips begin to quiver.... i know you will say.. 'But, my dear child... it was YOUR call i paid heed to.. you needed me to wake you from the slumber before the choice is snatched away by the hands of time... don't accuse me now of jumping in unasked when you know deep in your heard.. you need my voice'...
You're my conscience (i murmur softly).... Well, bummer, no escaping that.
Sensation-In-Stomach nods wisely.
Was the arm amputated or left to heal with medicines and time?
I'm hoping the Sensation-In-Stomach will stick around long enough to help me decide.
Peace. That i want. That i need.
(Bob Dylan helps, oddly...the answer may actually be blowing in the wind) *semi-grin*
and yeah, Merry Christmas to all :)
Just about recently, this 'off' vibe has been going haywire to the point that its not really that much of a joke anymore. Crazy mistrust issues and 'argh' producing feelings. Terrible to kind of know what you think isn't real and not be able to back it with the facts.
Dislikes heavy
murky brown,
taste so bitter
its rarely found...
saying anything more would be on the excessive side.
When a hand is diseased, what does one do?
cut it off completely and salvage whatever is left of the gaping red wound?
or try over years of therapy to cure the infection that is desperate to claw its way to the body as a whole?...
now, i am no medical student... duh... but it sounds as though the safer option would be the former... but i dont know about the saner aspect of it, keeping the importance of the hand in mind.... probably in a real case...where mangled remains of a hand will be tangible... important people in clever-people glasses would scratch their heads with yellow pencils or blue gel pens, weigh the pros and cons of both... analyse the disease and its probability of getting cured by X miracle drug and then... then carefully suggest treatment....
'Lets wait for a few months Ms. S, it may turn out that the hand may not need to be cut after all. Its just these few dicey months that we have to get through.'and pat Ms S on the back and move on. Literally and mentally to another person, another case, another back to pat and hope to hand out. (sigh, the irony of it all)
(and now i note a new arrival)
Me- Dear Sensation-In-Stomach
we havent met for simply ages!
How have things been? wherever it is that you have been...
Sensation-In-Stomach- oh this and that have kept me busy..(evasive)
Me- Months ago you turned up in the oddest way, but then it meant something else and now it remains sheer paranoia. or thats what you lead me to believe. its not the physical disintegration of my 20 year old body, i know. its not that which you come to alert me of (or is it?... that paranoia talking again... apologies)...
Sensation-in-Stomach- maybe that its time to grow up and leave what is petty aside. not swirl it around each morning in the cup of milk with the cornflakes... never really wanting to gulp it down.
so stop the swirling and either chuck the cup into the bin or well, wait for a few more uncomfortable minutes and then chuck the cup in the bin. for face it, the cup WILL be chucked in the end and by the same hands which cradle it now.
Me- you, Sensation-In-Stomach, what is the meaning of this?
you invading my life in this unseemly fashion (i argue prudishly i know)
I Think- i know what you will say before those lips begin to quiver.... i know you will say.. 'But, my dear child... it was YOUR call i paid heed to.. you needed me to wake you from the slumber before the choice is snatched away by the hands of time... don't accuse me now of jumping in unasked when you know deep in your heard.. you need my voice'...
You're my conscience (i murmur softly).... Well, bummer, no escaping that.
Sensation-In-Stomach nods wisely.
Was the arm amputated or left to heal with medicines and time?
I'm hoping the Sensation-In-Stomach will stick around long enough to help me decide.
Peace. That i want. That i need.
(Bob Dylan helps, oddly...the answer may actually be blowing in the wind) *semi-grin*
and yeah, Merry Christmas to all :)
