I get so wired into my patterns.

Spontaneity gets crippled by comfort.

Comfort gets tarnished by redundancy. It loses its color and texture. Life becomes vague and bloblike.

In some parts of the pattern, I thrive. Some arenas in my life keep my brain's reward systems alive, and promote connection, usefulness, energy. My job and position with ( Read more... )

My father years ago gifted me Good Moanin', a collection of columns published by the Detroit Free Press by someone named Bob Talbert. It was a daily column which started in 1968 and went on for decades. In it, Talbert shared his observations and feelings and sense of humor with the world like an open book.

For some reason or another, Good Moanin' ( Read more... )

My body has experienced a nearly 30 lb. reduction in weight in the past four months.

I was curious about what change that looks like physically, so here is a basic comparison:

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For many immeasurably consequential years of my life, I was deeply psychologically addicted to overdosing on cough medicine.

(The active ingredient of most cough medicine is a powerful dissociative chemical [DXM] that tickled my brain into fanciful delusions of grandeur and purpose of the highest order.)

They call what I did with cough medicine " ( Read more... )

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I write this from a hotel room.

Hotel and motel rooms have played an ominous part in my history.

They were the places I'd scurry off to, to hide in the shadows and self-destroy.

The first time I did this was in 2009, I think. Sometime around then. I was supposed to go on a road trip with my family, out to the Pacific Northwest.

The night before we ( Read more... )