Dog Poet- incomprehensibly still- Transmitting…….
(skipping Petri Dish for the more appropriate Origami)
I thought I had been through Hell before and, no doubt I have. Hell, however, is a place defined by degrees. At extremes of itself, it would be unrecognizable by comparison with the examples. This I have recently experienced and it has covered the days between Friday last week and Saturday today.
As some of you may remember, I had a kidney stone a few years ago. The one I had was six millimeters and the doctors said I could not pass it; I would need surgery. I had gone to see the doctor at a clinic where others were recovering from such surgery and I saw them walking around with those IV apparatuses. They each had a bag containing some amount of bloody fluid. It is apparently an iffy operation. I told myself, “I can’t do this.” and mused that there must be a way otherwise. So… I spent the next 3 days, jumping up and down, drinking massive amounts of Pepsi Cola and eating jars of asparagus, like the kind you see preserved in some sort of liquid on grocery store shelves. I passed the stone. Occasionally afterwards, I would feel another but it seems that the large one I passed made further passage much easier. Somewhat paranoid about the pain of another experience; there are no words really to describe the intensity of it, I have been, for some while taking a host of Ayur-Vedic powders and capsules to dissolve any remainder and- on the Thursday previous, I drank an entire small bottle of a kidney stone tincture, possibly generating what happened to me.
I had been having, off and on over recent years, serious bouts of pain from my gall bladder. I had seen the pictures of the two large stones resident there that would not possibly pass. These attacks would last half an hour or so but… I always had the necessary pain medication to offset the experience. A doctor had told me I would need to have it removed because it could kill me. There were times recently that I begged for that to happen but it did not. On Monday I had it removed. I could have just had the stones removed but they could have reappeared.
The attack first started on the Friday 9 days ago. I went in and they gave me seriously insufficient medication. I was back on Saturday in dreadful pain. The people I encountered were sociopaths, indifferent and cruel individuals, unlike any in my previous encounters with the Satanic allopathic community. Hard as it may be to believe, they were mocking me and laughing at me and threatening to call the police if I did not shut up and telling me I could always go to another hospital. Although I had friends with me, there were some number of Garden of Gethsemane moments. It really was an protracted and excruciating series of “abandon hope all ye who enter here.” I will not dwell on the anger… the death of faith… what I consider my cowardice in the face of the challenge. There’s no way to put into words what passed by for me in this time.
Of course, since I came in on Saturday night I had to wait until Monday afternoon for the surgery. Because of the war on Oxycontin, caused by a collective of despair… poverty and materialism, one must jump through incredible hoops to get access to this medicine, even if one is not an offender of it. I did not ever receive adequate amounts; having been in the hospital before and the memory of it very clear. They tossed me out the next day- Tuesday, with holes in my stomach from the laparoscopic operation and gave me the smallest amount of pain killers I ever remember getting. They gave me only 18 and that was gone in two days. All the superhuman efforts of my friends was to no avail and even when I did get another prescription the pharmacies said the previous one was meant to last until today. Finally today I got 20 more and immediately took four and all is well as it should have been but I am in America, where only the rich and influential can get whatever they want, whenever they want it, or the dealers and the like. Ordinary people, which I don’t think I qualify as (grin) but in this case resemble, are screwed.
I’m living in the United States, probably better off in certain ways than I have ever been; in pleasant surroundings and with truly fine associates. I may not have much in the way of material goods but the character of my life has rewarded me with more sincere and faithful friends than most and I have more tools of my trade than ever before. It looks like a creative storm, the like of which I have never yet experienced, is on the horizon and I have been setting that up for some time. Perhaps what I went through has deepened my capacities as nothing else could have done. Pain certainly sharpens and concentrates the mind. I am disappointed in myself for not handling it all better. I was seriously angry with God, who seemed to be laughing at me as well, though we have sorted that since. Apparently when you are important to God you become equally important to the adversary. I don’t know how true that is in my case but it’s something to grab on to.
I’ve been told that removing the gall bladder can have a negative affect on what one can eat and how one tastes their food. I haven’t noticed that. I don’t live to eat in any case, even though cooking is one of my true passions and the love of it has assuredly honed my skills, especially of late. I’m rather surprised at that.
I really wanted to live in India. Unfortunately, as is often the case, I chose the wrong part of it to live in during my visit. I still don’t know what happened to me there. I suspect Varanasi would have been a better fit. India is cheap, so that a poor man can live like a prince. It has competent medical practitioners, with the oldest and finest tradition known. Medications of any kind can be had without difficulty. It is a spiritual place. The food is off the charts! The people are splendid when they have been raised and educated properly. I count among my finest friends those with that lineage; Roy, Sukh and the wonderful Raquib. They are all wonderful for that matter, exceptional beings that are a rare find in the West.
Never before have I felt the awareness of the suffering that so many endure. Flashes of examples were moving through my mind all along the way. I hurt so bad it was unendurable and I have had a good portion of that by comparison with the majority. Added to this onslaught was the spiritual pain; the mocking and indifference, the cold, callous, Bolshevik-like psychopathy. Meanwhile, I know more about medicine and healing than the average allopathic practitioner. I should probably be more humble about this but I have ample evidence of it and many enduring witnesses; “physician heal thyself!” Slow down… visible.
On a positive note, I am brimming over with a confidence and a deeper sense of wider awareness that just wasn’t there before. I feel capable of more than I ever have, should I get the opportunity to employ it. Still I am saddened by my weakness and the clear vision of my limitations and shortcomings. That hurts too. That really hurts. It doesn’t take much for me to feel like I am a piece of shit, given that I was raised with those words and worse through the first 17 years of my life. It’s something I am going to have to get over and certainly accounts for the various episodes of bad behavior on my part, now and again. I don’t see much of that anymore …but the memory lingers. I can tell myself I’m better than the herd, that I do care deeply and am earnest in my striving but that’s not enough. There are those whose company I am not worthy to enter into and wish with all my heart that I were more like them. It is a hard tread up an ugly and treacherous mountain, with more waiting beyond.
I thought I had real courage and faith. When one can walk into the dark wilderness at night alone and take large amounts of LSD, maybe one can get a false impression, which is shattered at times like this.
Earlier on, I thought the world was going to change. Now I know the world does not change. We change and so our view and understanding of the world changes. I can’t shake the idea that a mini golden age is going to come. It will come in the hearts of the few at first and in strategic locations. The force of it will penetrate all of the terminal resistance and ignorance that is a hallmark of times of material darkness. It seems so. I feel it for reasons I don’t understand but it’s strong and has been.
As the reader knows, I devour books, sometimes reading one a day. Recently I have discovered Louis L’Amour. I knew about him but had never read him. He’s written more than 40 books, principally westerns and I’ve been reading them because I am keen to write a western containing my own Dostoevsky like examples of the mystical war within and the Les Miserables like conditions that can come, as well as some of the illustrative pictorial imagery of Hesse, Borges and others. Cormac McCarthy is a contemporary master I admire as well. In any case, I am nearly through with a book by L’Amour entitled “The Walking Drum
” (certainly read at least the first couple of comments by other readers). It is not a western but takes place in Europe and Asia of the 13th
NEVER have I read a novel with such encyclopedic awareness of the history of the last couple of millennia. I have a passing knowledge of people and places mentioned and this book… this book teaches you, presents you with a compilation of references and explanations, character studies… words fail. I haven’t enjoyed a book this much in I don’t know when. It has been a joy and an education for me and I cannot imagine being so well informed and writing so well. It feels beyond my capacity in this life. Here I thought he was just a cowboy novelist and he is but man… it’s like you are right there. You never know what you are going to find, if you take the trouble to look.
I apologize for putting this poor scenario before the reader. Hopefully there is something of value to be had for someone. It’s been a shock to the system. I have no idea who I am. I am emptying my mind, hoping some merciful god or servant of the ineffable may fill it with the proper things. I would hate to feel like I have wasted my life until now but I can say with certitude and conviction that whatever time remains to me I will value and employ to the best of my limited abilities. Much love to you, one and all.
In closing, one piece of advice that has come clearly to me is that I think it fortuitous for the seeker, unless he is a madman like me, to embrace a tradition; Sufism, mystical Christianity or something that provides a structure and give a comforting system; proven in the lives of great examples, rather than (like I) pursuing an unknown God of no discernible provenance, moving from one perspective to another and both the deity and yourself remaining unknown as God is unknowable and incomprehensible. I don’t know why I have added this. It keeps coming to mind of late.
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