Wednesday, October 3, 2007


It’s not like me to be stressed; yesterday, however, I was stressed.
A powerfully humourless, heartbeat = kick-thump to the chest kind of stressed...and justifiably, too.
It usually matters very little to me when my job’s management-structure falls apart like a flagpole made of playing-cards, but for some reason yesterday I was taking life seriously and seriously considered checking myself into Hammertown’s friendly-neighbourhood lunatic-asylum - honest and true.
I weighed the pros & cons, eventually coming to the understanding that while possibly free to check myself in, I was then at the mercy of the mental-health workers to get out again...leaving open the very scary, and to my embattled brain very real, possibility that I might get labeled "nuts" and have to claw my way free whilst ball-gagged and padlocked in a straight-jacket.
Fortunately, I am uninsane...and though I hold no concrete evidence to support this, I do know that any room can be a padded-room if you have strong enough shoulders, and that clarity is enough to keep me from exploring the lunch-menu at my local loony-bin.
Where, though, did this clarity come from? It certainly wasn’t apparent as I paced a divot into my tiled kitchen-floor, or when I smoked until my voice sounded like a death-rattle escaping a rusty box of rail-spikes, or when I ran out of fingernails to bite and started biting at people in the, I was free of claritythen.
Write this down: clarity comes from shaving your head. In the forever that I’ve been doing so, I’ve always been energized afterwards, and everything else just seems to work itself out.
Perhaps head-hair blocks the extra-terrestrial logic that descends upon us as brain-beams of floating knowledge, some mental-energy waves of unknown origin ushered in through the otherwise-intolerable static and noise of the universe, a cosmic jurisprudence sliding to earth like the mind-rays of an intergalactic super-genius and into the very thoughts of those receptive enough to receive them - those without the hindrance of head-hair.
Who’s crazy now, motherfuckers?

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