I am tired and weak and my head is spinning.... the room is transphasic as it hemorrhages translucencies.... the soul, in its supreme transcendency, comprehends everything while its shell is maniacally intoxicated with metaphysical menagerie.....

I lie somewhere in between the headache and the normal;  between the waking world and the nap;  between the vegetable and the tomato.  Such is my life.  Such is the life of me.  Such is the life of all like me.  Such is the life of all whose fingerprints and DNA would match mine in a forensics investigation....

Oooh my pounding   POunding       pouNDing      pounDing  head.

I really really really really really really really really wanted to post something quite provocatively profound here today, but alas, I am remiss.

The onward   POUNing of the  BRAIn continues.....

Sunlight, the emerald green grass, apple green hedges and white marble, a bird sings: come, come, come, people crave celestial beauty and the reality of divinity.

All of time points toward the future... a future in bones and a reality that reaches into a silence below all that is history and the future, the now, the stillness at the centre of this Dust, this holy Dust.....

Off in the distance an axis where, spread out like pearls on a line, the world is cut in twain and a dance along this great artery of life is coreographed amid the drift of stars.....

While back at the still point, the world turns; for here is the real dance where all of time is gathered.... here, at this still point, the dance finds its origin and its highest wish. For all there is, is the dance and its wondrous release, its grace, its boundlessness and what seems like endless white light, concentrated, partial ecstacy, protecting us from heaven’s endless mysteries and what the flesh cannot endure.... time, at last, conquered, given order, specificity, pattern and memory.... here in this garden-by-the-sea, this place of affection, where affection is cleansed, where lucid form is invested with stillness, shadows are turned into transient beauty, and permanence is tasted. Here flickers of light dance and fill with fancy and meaning, the intersticies of lives whirled by cold winds that still blow for more of time than we’d ever wish to see....

I have my head down counting pills. A girl glides across my peripherals like they used to before my probation.... I look up -- girl walks on tennis shoes. I stare at her shoes momentarily, then watch her glide off into sporting goods on wheels beneath her heels....

I am in a daze. A young man maybe barely out high school grabs my arm.

Boric acid?

My mind still far far away, I stare at his lacerated hands and arms and a face that lost an alley fight.

Gauze?

I direct him vacantly towards the items and return my attention to the gliding girl. Ten minutes later I dropped my spatula and laughed so hysterically I couldn’t breathe....

The poor little guy was getting boric acid for his CAT.

OMG. OMG.

My heart almost broke at that moment. This guy needed to go to the emergency room himself, but his only concern is for the very creature that maimed him....