navigating a world which feels like gravity is working in reverse

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  • Category Archives Poetry
  • epistemology of mental illness

    I think on a deep level the millennial generation’s (1 in 4 of us has a mental illness) drift away from religion and traditional moral constructions is explainable by something I like to call an “epistemology of mental illness”.  Things simply don’t work the same on a deeply human level.   Take my poem

    psychology says we want to kill ourselves when we are insane
    and want to live when we are sane
    bipolar disorder says exactly the opposite

    I and lots of bipolar people live in an inverted reality.  Mostly because depression is so powerful it becomes reality so escaping reality becomes the only way to really live.

    mental illness a template
    your emotions divorced
    from your circumstances
    and they wonder why we love getting high

    I can watch the most beautiful sunset and feel like shit and sit by a heating vent and feel great because my emotions are at the whim of the chemicals in my brain and little else.  And then we have people using alcohol and drugs to actively divorce their emotions from their circumstances, partying.  But the more you do the more divorced they become and it’s a vicious cycle.

    Mania is a starred Mario
    But back to depression
    You pick up with the amount of fortitude
    You left off with

    The starred Mario analogy describes the recklessness of mania, how it makes you feel invincible and this is it’s beauty but also it’s bane, as this recklessness can cost you falling through the bottom of the screen which you are not protected from.

    But back to depression, the amount of fortitude is like a the same variable in two different namespaces, non depressive namespace and depression namespace.  Modifications in one namespace doesn’t affect the other.  So when you leave non-depression you pick up with the amount of fortitude possessed in your depressive state.  This flies in the face of everything religion and traditional culture tells you, because rest and joy are supposed to tide you through the bad times.

    (anti natalism)
    if life truly were a gift
    mine would be received as one

    One of the Christian tropes is the “sanctity of life”.  Apparently it doesn’t cover how you get treated in church because I don’t get treated well there so I’ve stopped going.  Also, what is your value worth if you can’t cash it out?  If your therapist thinks you’re worth something that’s great, but once you walk out the door of that therapist’s office if you can’t cash out that said worth on a date, at a job interview, or in church, what is it really worth?  It’s like salt that doesn’t have it’s saltiness.

     



  • our words are aggregated instead of illuminated

    For a poetry Facebook I experimented with combining programming code with poetry, in this case JavaScript, JQuery, and (for grabbing the Twitter and Yahoo feeds) some server side code.

    I started out with a poem that does random lines and progressed to one that modified the text size as things went up.   And then one about time wearing on that pulls data from various calculations and places.   And who could forget about a national debt poem.

    Finally I did a poem for Easter that contains The Beatitudes interspersed with tweets from someone you’ll just have to guess.

    PLEASE NOTE: If you are viewing these on a phone you may have to press the Run button in the top left to have them show.



  • appliance

    the greater of two evils
    is going to work their hardest at portraying
    the lesser of two evils as too evil for your tastes
    so you choose neither and they win by default

    Government is like an appliance.  You don’t notice when it’s functioning but it’s all you notice when it isn’t.  People didn’t realize this and millennials didn’t come out and vote in high enough numbers because they weren’t offered everything they wanted.  They only thought about them selves.  Not enough people voted purely on the well being of their fellow man.  Well look what we got now!



  • poetry about brains

    success is just being better at your brain
    than your brain is at you

    your brain is not a muscle
    in that things that strain your mental health generally don’t make you stronger
    they just weaken you the way a concussion does
    so that the next hit doesn’t have to be so hard to do the same amount of damage

    (being exposed to the truth!)
    things that exercise your brain
    make it hurt
    when it’s out of shape

    your brain needs to be a perfect ten
    to make religion work inside of/for you
    (busts out the miss brain USA ribbon)
    (God judges people by the brain they
    were born with the same way men
    judge women by their faces and bodies)
    YOU need a fountain in your brain
    chemicals running over
    to make the cognitive tricks you play in the middle
    so that you can sense God loving you
    then you have to astroturf the bad things
    and forgive the bad people
    in your life
    in an effort to make things make sense in hindsight
    (of course romanticizing suffering is mainly done to
    make those who suffer less [who generally have power]
    comfortable with your suffering)
    (forgiveness is just a cognitive trick you play to try to
    get over a wrong while defering to the person who wrongs
    [who generally has power])

    people can bring you to religion
    but only your brain can use it to find (conjure?) God!
    (praise the brain!)

    suffering coats your brain with teflon
    so the stuff before it happened sticks
    and the stuff afterwards just slides off

    (for those trying to proselytize)
    if you aren’t going to be the one there to
    scrape my brains off the walls after i blow them out
    your sales pitch doesn’t mean jack shit to me



  • the supernatural

    <<<my self>>>
    is the only protection i have
    against the experience of the supernatural (sewer-pernatural?)
    God, Satan, and all the rest
    they have little in common
    except for their hatred of me

    psychosis
    is often a polite and urbane way
    of saying one is getting fucked over by the supernatural

    the supernatural protects some (usually hardcore atheists) from itself
    those people experience 0 of it
    you LUCKY SONS OF BITCHES!!!!!!!

    The popularity of Pokemon Go has gotten me thinking about augmented reality and how the supernatural is an invisible layer superimposed on the physical world just like the world of Pokemon Go.  Of course in Pokemon Go anyone with an Android or iPhone gains a window into that world.  The actual supernatural is incredibly cagey and works almost the opposite of Pokemon Go and other augmented reality apps.  You generally have to believe in the supernatural to see it and it doesn’t avail itself on demand just by pulling out your smartphone.  It’s a lot more like the street.  Within 8 hours of being on the street predators already are aware of a runaway’s predicament and start swarming.  Like the street the supernatural is not a world where conventional smarts will do you much good.



  • more poetry – i can’t halucinate encouragers

    science is on the axis of inquiry
    religion is on the axis of love
    when they stay in their places
    they leave enough room
    for each other to breathe

    church!
    stop telling people God is love
    (as if it were a reflexive relation)
    because then when they stop seeing love
    they’ll stop seeing God
    and walk out your door

    if God is holding his breath today
    it just means he’s going to breathe on you harder
    tomorrow

    when there’s an alpha male in the room
    you piss off
    you are fucked
    when there’s an alpha male in the sky
    you piss off
    you are fucked and damnned

    hopelessnes is like tinnitus
    if you can’t effectively mask it
    it will destroy you



  • Letter to Mother Nature by Wayne Bowerman

    where do i begin? never felt like we were friends
    and then religion taught me to hate you:
    “look at those pagans beneath the constellations
    demonic stations, only jesus saves you
    she’s just a bitch with an ironclad grip, fleshy fists
    she’ll grab your soul and cage you”
    awkward kid with backwards lid, a fat wordsmith
    so of course i longed to escape you
    with ammunition from a tradition or superstition
    docetic, domestic jesus call it gospel
    reading those who wrote in paul or moses’ name
    dimly through lens of plato and aristotle
    with half truths abounding it was easy to believe
    we were fairly representing the apostle
    pitting flesh and spirit we understood that we’ve
    got to escape, and can’t escape being docile
    so we took to militancy with surprising resiliency
    suing teachers dismissing finds of fossils
    extremist took drastic measures against doctors
    while children died from swollen tonsils
    were they afraid you’d woo us with your beauty
    when they started questioning your years?
    maybe if we believe you’re younger than you look
    we’ll stay gridlocked in all these fears
    question your wisdom and integrity and our ability
    to read the signs that you give us
    feeling filthy, i’m just as guilty of such propagation
    now i’m praying dear god forgive us
    trying my best to resist the ever present temptation
    to pit one mother against another
    the church is still my station despite all this vexation
    and so i hope she knows i still love her
    i just want to pay the respect that’s long overdue you
    ’cause in both your waters i find life
    the modus operandi is god’s hand working through you
    despite suspicion of you that runs rife
    confess but maybe don’t believe the word became flesh
    and in flesh and blood there is life
    sometimes i wonder why he didn’t just stop the 5th day
    say it’s good and make you his wife



  • poetry (I’m late, April was National Poetry Month)

    there’s often a story behind old cloths
    the people who reject you for the old cloths
    wouldn’t be interested in the story

    people who were coddled
    and people who were spanked and thrown around
    will just talk past each other most of the time

    I will make a poor showing in the hereafter
    the parts of me I connected to God through
    were destroyed by my mental illness

    I go to a church
    God’s rays penetrate
    I go home more deranged than I came

    when you wash your hands of those destroyed by suffering
    they’re clean enough to do God’s work

    the world is like a paper shredder
    it tears you up
    and puts your words out of existence



  • more poetry

    hope is that space in the middle
    between conjecture and wishful thinking
    and when times get lean
    that space becomes the fat that burns away
    forcing you to choose between the two

    (vocation)
    when you have multiple disabilities
    you just have to be twice as good for half as much
    because being good is the only bulwark
    against the world being cruel

    science is for the why
    humanities is for the why bother

    no, society is not broken
    it’s working perfectly
    it only seems broken to those of us far from privilege

    if God were on Yelp
    he’d get mostly five star
    and one star reviews

    as long as righteousness is isolating
    and sin is communal
    sin will win