Impressions of Insanity

Impressions

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Saturday, November 18, 2000

13:36

And I went in to see Bob but he forgot to bring in the design. He did want to talk to me for a while about "Ravens in Winter" though. He was very impressed by it. He said that if I go in on Tuesday he'll have done some more stuff and even if he's not there (he has some American tattoo artist visiting at the moment) he will leave the design with Chris so that I can have a look at it. I'm hoping I'll be able to take copies and bring them home so I can have a good ponder. While I really want to get this whole thing over and done with, I don't want to say yes to a design that isn't exactly right, because it is a very important thing. It's more important to do it right than it is to do it soon, but I do get the sense of sooner being better than later. Much better.

I'm worried about the cost and how much it is going to hurt.

13:22

Got a temporary filling in my tooth. At least this means I can eat tonight. We're having my by now infamous Pilli chizzas (ObNonFroodEnabled: chilli pizzas). Crunchy bases not good for people with holes in their teeth.

We watched Stigmata last night, finally. Ffetcher went on about it for ages after he saw it on a Trans-Atlantic flight after it came out. I've been meaning to see it ever since.

It is actually pretty good, and a bit more thought provoking than you might at first think. I remember ffetcher telling me he was surprised it wasn't banned for heresy and I was left thinking the same thing. But then I read the review of it at the The Exorcist. But it isn't. It has some similarities, but only because there are some aspects of possession involved.

If you haven't seen it yet, I really recommend you do, and I apologise if you find this little review a bit of a spoiler. But what I really liked about the film was that on the surface it was about the power God has to get the message of truth through, even if He must use a self-professed atheist to do so. The subtle line underneath was about the power of belief. If you consider the story carefully, you see that it didn't matter whether the 35th Gospel was true or not, whether it was what its translator thought it was or not. The one giving the message was not God, in the end. God did not afflict Frankie (the heroine, played with no small amount of sympathy and aplomb by Patricia Arquette in about the best role I have seen her) with the stigmata, the old priest did. This film was about the power of belief and I found the subtle interplay of humanism and Christianity quite fascinating.

"Split a piece of wood and I am there.
Lift a stone and you will find me.

I can certainly see why ffetcher liked it so much.

And my favourite wholefood shop, Uhuru, is open again after refurbishment and they stock salt toothpaste. Hooray! Now I just need to find somewhere that stocks the Weleda herbal deodorant I like.

Friday, November 17, 2000

23:39

All of this because it lied?

19:27

Please. If the situations were reversed do you think I would give up on you?

18:58

Please.

15:20

The soonest I can get a dental appointment is next Thursday, dammit, so it looks like I will be attending the emergency surgery just so that I can eat between now and then.

10:29

Another thing. Frood joined a new video rental place the other day and brought home a film called Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai. It was written and directed by Jim Jarmusch, who did the same for the Johnny Depp film Dead Man. I didn't know it by the same guy that did Dead Man, when I saw it, but thinking about it I can see the same sense of silence in the spaces between the story. I like both films as much as each other. Dead Man has some scenes of a Kwakiutl village towards the end, and both films are ones that I think bear watching more than once. Forest Whitaker was very good in Ghost Dog and I liked the way the film was spaced out with readings from Hagukare's Way of the Samurai. It is quite a peculiar film, but I would thoroughly recommend it (and Dead Man) if you fancy something that knows how to use space in the same way that classical music knows how to use silence, as a break from the usual hurly-burly.

10:10

My tooth started bleeding last night, after we went into town to pick up a new vegetarian cookbook. It's really rather painful now, but nothing extraordinary. The side of my mouth is swollen and I can't speak properly, both of which are minor irritations. I telephoned a recommended dentist to be told that registration required a thirty pounds deposit, which went towards the cost of the first treatment, and the earliest they would be able to see me is next week. This means I will have to attend the East Oxford emergency dental clinic tonight in Kidlington or tomorrow morning in Cowley. The earliest I can phone for an appointment is 17:15, so I will see if it can wait until tomorrow morning as I don't fancy a trip to Kidlington particularly.

My computer is sounding very sick indeed. Frood is of the opinion that is suffering sympathetically.

I had a dream last night. It was a very strange dream and I can only remember brief excerpts from it. It was actually a very comforting dream, although parts were deeply unpleasant, as parts always are. I was living by myself in a house in a patch of woodland. The edges of my little woodland were bounded by a fence some three metres high, with razor wire across the top. There was a big gate at the front, with vertical bars, looking like something you might find preventing out of hours access to an industrial area. The bars looked rusty.

It was very peaceful there, but very lonely. There were a lot of birds in the trees and .I didn't have many human friends, but that was all right. There were a few, strong ones, who looked out for me.

I did things for people from my little woodland hideaway. People who needed to know found out, or already knew, that the gate at the front was open during certain hours of the day, and they would come if they needed something. Sometimes, almost frequently, I would have to go outside the compound to solve a problem, and that was ok too because usually if that happened one of my friends would mysteriously materialise and come with me to make sure that everything was fine. I don't remember what I did for food, how I got food. I think perhaps it was delivered, and that I had come to know the man who delivered it very well.

In my dream I went out late one afternoon and saw a raven in the trees, sitting on a branch right by the fence. The raven was called Raymond, and I was surprised to see him. At first I didn't recognise him, but then I realised who it was. I chatted away to him for some time, but didn't get any response, which seemed very peculiar.

Then, suddenly, Raymond turned into a Death's Head moth and flew down to land in my hair. I sighed and shrugged and told him to get out of my hair because it tickled, but he wouldn't get out. I was getting quite cross, and tried to brush him out, but very gently so that I wouldn't hurt him. He seemed quite intent on staying in my hair, but the noise of his wings flapping was getting louder and louder and really quite painful.

I walked away from the fence, back to the house, still being cross at Raymond and telling him to get out of my hair, away from my head. He was concentrating on a point at my hairline, vertically above my right eye, almost as if he was trying to burrow in. It was becoming painful. Two of my friends, very close friends, were sitting outside the front of my house. One, a woman with short blonde hair, was sitting in a rocking chair with a newspaper, while the other, a man, brown hair and tall, was looking out of the gate. When I came out of the woods flapping at my head and getting near to panic, they rushed over to try to help. They couldn't seem to see quite what was going on. The woman put her right arm around my shoulders and I tried to explain that Raymond was being really rather badly behaved since he turned into a moth. She and my other friend just didn't seem to understand.

Then my other friend arrived, quite purposefully. He was tall, and strong, with dark brown eyes the colour of glossy chocolate, long brown hair and a moustache. He put his left hand to the side of my head and asked me what was the matter. I told him that Raymond had turned into a moth and was trying to burrow into my head. The noise was deafening, a high pitched screeching whine, and I could hear myself near to panic. For some reason I didn't think it odd that everyone was asking me what was wrong and they couldn't see for themselves. Then my friend told me "No he isn't," and I fell over. The noise had gone, Raymond was not trying to burrow into my head, I felt very dreamy and peaceful. "He's over there in the tree," my friend told me. I could just about open my eyes enough to look, and sure enough, there he was, a raven sitting in a tree looking at me. He croaked at me and I let my eyes close again as two of my friends picked me up and carried me into my house, one at each end because I am a lot heavier than I should be for my weight. They were talking about me as they did so, but I couldn't hear properly what they were saying. I was drowsily wondering if the Raymond in the tree was the same Raymond who had turned into a moth.

It was a nice dream, despite the unpleasantness of Raymond trying to burrow into my head. There was a sense of profound connection to these friends in my dream. It was like being Core again, but being able to see my people and be with them outside of the Dreaming (in the dream, if you can manage that). It was comforting to know that if I got into trouble there would be people who would look out for me and help me get out of it.

The last friend to arrive, the one with the moustache, was someone whom I loved very deeply, in a very profound sense. He seemed to make the world better just by being there, no matter how bad it was.

Thursday, November 16, 2000

19:32

Another piece of filling has come out of my tooth.

It's really the last straw.

14:56

Now I'm trying to work out what it is that I do wrong.

Or did. I can't face going through this again.

No one told me that the final days of one's twenty-seventh year could produce such cataclysm.

13:51

I think I'll become an alcoholic.

13:51

I didn't want to say goodbye. What else can I do? When he is prepared to sit back and wait to see if I make it through this myself, unaided. I cannot leave myself open to false hope any more. I am in enough trouble as it is.

11:12

I feel utterly alone and utterly devoid of any sense of the value of fighting. I see no reason to carry on at all. The pain is too great and I have lost all trust.

Is that melodramatic enough for you, Simon? Feel free to send me your thoughts on the matter. No doubt you'll be able to tell me all about how foolish and teenage-angsty I am being.

Don't mock my pain. I would rather be impaled through the heart then go through this again. It would hurt less.

11:04

I am in more pain than I think I have ever been before, save for once, when the Core-Key structures were ripped out of me. I have the same sense of loss, the same sense of dying, the same sense of utter hopelessness. I came so very close to loosening the bindings that seem to hold me, late last night. I came very close to allowing them to be loosened. Just enough for one message. "Help me".

But I stopped, and thought. I couldn't do it. I couldn't ask. What if there was no response? Worse, what if there was an affirmative response that turned out to be as much of a false hope as all the other agreements to help? "I'll never refuse a request for help". I have made three. One gained a response, the other was ignored, the third was given an affirmation but nothing now will come of it.

I understand the commitments of real life. I have been accused of expecting too much from people, of manipulating them, of being selfish. For that reason, and others, I have taken some of my thoughts to a different place in a secure directory. I find, in fact, that the opposite is true. People in general expect their friends to be there for them, expect to be able to turn to their family for help, expect not to be lied to. I certainly didn't used to, but as a result of many months of being told otherwise I had foolishly come to think that perhaps I could expect some of the same thing from others that they now they can expect from me.

I was wrong.

I was so wrong.

I didn't get to see the latest tattoo design yesterday. Bob forgot to bring it in with him. I'm going back on Saturday. Chris seems to think that he might even have got it spot on by then and it might be time to think about arranging to have it done. Well, I don't have any other plans now, there's nothing in the diary for the next few weeks that means having a large scab on my lower back would be problematic.

A birthday present.

How can anything hurt this much?

Wednesday, November 15, 2000

21:28

I don't know how much of the pain in my chest is because of what is happening and how much is because I did too many crunches yesterday. How can one be numb and in such pain at the same time?

18:24

How come Andy's email is dead and no one else's is? Seems mighty strange to me.

13:14

Well Weleda have on-line ordering, so if we really can't find any we can always buy direct. Cool.

12:56

No good. Have to go back next week. Apparently the procedure should ideally be performed on the 14th day of the cycle. Because the last three attempts have met with technical difficulties, and I really don't like this particular 5 yearly ordeal, the nurse said she'd rather wait until the ideal time so that there wasless chance of anything going wrong. So I have to go back next Wednesday.

I can't find any salt toothpaste anywhere, and Frood has taken a fancy to it so he's using my toothpaste now. It doesn't last so long. I never thought he'd use anything other than the Colgate Total.

Odd dream last night, something to do with the quarry near the Whispering Knights. Dreamed of people using the WK's, a middle-aged woman amongst them. There were also all these other stones in a nearby quarry, but there was an old village around and in the quarry. One of the stones there had this deep pit around it because for centuries people had gone there to spend a day walking around and around the stone, and the ground was sort of sandy chalky and had worn down in the path where everyone walked. Very odd.

10:09

Couldn't publish last night's last three posts til this morning. Blogger has been having trouble. Sounds like the fan on my computer is about to disintegrate as well. Sigh. Off to the doctor's shortly.

Tuesday, November 14, 2000

21:46

Release
Afro Celt Sound System, Vol 2.

Don't argue amongst yourselves
Because of the loss of me
I'm sitting amongst yourselves
Don't think you can't see me

Don't argue amongst yourselves
Because of the loss of me
I haven't gone anywhere
but out of my body

Reach out and you'll touch me
Make effort to speak to me
Call out and you'll hear me
Be happy for me

Don't argue amongst yourselves
Because of the loss of me
I haven't gone anywhere
but out of my body

Reach out and you'll touch me
Make effort to speak to me
Call out and you'll hear me
Be happy for me

Reach out and you'll touch me
Make effort to speak to me
Call out and you'll hear me
Be happy for me

21:30

And the dragon says "Prakashindar."

21:02

Oh man. All stations alert while in the gym. A pitch black hell of a place, thick with fumes and inhuman screeching, shadows in red and black looking like Edward Munsch's "The Scream", crowding in around me, all superimposed over the picture Pierre took while on holiday in Antigua.

Trying to stay split enough to focus on the incoming hordes and stay upright on the treadmill.

Please someone tell me it wasn't just me.

13:12

Pain is bad today, my coccyx has never been this painful, but I feel strangely numb about it. Almost hollow. I intend getting out to the gym today despite the pain, despite the fact that I seem to be so cold I have lost sensation in my hands and feet.

Was going to go and see Bob this afternoon, but I have a doctor's appointment (a five-yearly one, for women, no I'm not looking forward to it) tomorrow, so I might as well go in to see him after that. Depends. I'll see how I feel in an hour or so. Last time I went in on a Wednesday he wasn't there. I seem to be on a roll with the whole tattoo thing right now and I don't want it to drift again.

Feeling odd about the tattoo as well. The reasons I am having it done are still valid, I still want it, but I am worried that I will go off the design after a couple of years or so. I'm quite aware that this is something I will have for the rest of my life. That is the whole point, after all.

I expect I'll get a better sense of it when I see the final design.

Monday, November 13, 2000

22:08

I don't know what's going on with me. In the last couple of weeks, without any intent to do so, I have cut right down on my alcohol intake, have stopped drinking so much tea and coffee and am drinking loads of herbal tea as well. I have also developed a craving for raw carrot.

How peculiar.

13:21

Frood has discovered the marvels of flash animation, with such amusements as Slitfinger and Stick Death. Now he wants to do an animated Sam Rantz. Ghods.

13:11

OK, so I've been accused of being manipulative today. That's a nice thing to get up to.

Am I being manipulative? Well, I suppose I'd have to say of course. Everyone is. Everyone tries to manipulate their surroundings to give them the best they can get.

Am I trying to make people feel guilty for not being there for me?

No.

I would like to be given an honest appraisal when someone tells me what to expect from them. I mean, let's see. If I am told by someone I love and feel I can trust that if I have a really bad problem I can call on him for help, then surely it is not out of order to have some sort of expectation based on that. If a close friend tells me I can talk to him when I'm feeling low, surely it is not out of order to expect that to be the case.

If, on the other hand, these things are impossible and said friend(s) does not make the claim that they are possible, then I will not have that expectation and I will not be sad/angry/disappointed or feel betrayed when that expectation is not met.

Is this any clearer? It's not whether or not people meet my expectations, it's whether or not they give me an honest description of what to expect. I don't expect things of people unless they give me reason to.

I don't like people being dishonest with me, not about important things like this.

Sunday, November 12, 2000

15:28

I have this dream. Well. It's not really a dream, as such. It's more like wistful thinking. Every so often something happens or people express enthusiasm for something that makes me think that one day, just one day, maybe it might happen. But it won't. I've decided to write something based on how life might be if it ever did. Just a little thing. I hope those involved don't mind.

This isn't it, by the way.

Skulls on poles. Aye. They would be there too, in my dream, and wind chimes. A farm and outbuildings, but it would have to be a big farm.

I don't want you to adore me
Don't want you to ignore me
When it pleases you

Heh. But that's how it works, isn't it?

People often tell me to be more selfish, not to give so much of myself, to take for a change. I don't know why they do this. On the odd occasion I follow their advice and expect things, people turn round and tell me that there's too much pressure, that it was better before because I didn't expect things of them. Well, can't have it both ways. I seem to be left to the whim of other people's convenience all the time. In some ways I actually find it amusing that people can say on the one hand that they care but on the other that they are too busy to talk.

Sorry you feel bad right now, I'm busy right now, but I do care you know.

Sure, fine, sorry to disturb.

And it just gets worse and worse. I'm not sure it's worth bothering any more. There are always things to do, always things more important to consider, and no matter how much they profess it to be different, experience shows that this is true of other people also. Always something more important. What is that something? I don't know. I am often told that there isn't anything more important, but the evidence would suggest otherwise.

Scrabble, for instance, cricket practise. Old examples, but the point still holds. It doesn't matter what the thing is, only that it exists, and I do wish people would stop bothering to pretend otherwise.

You know, it's not so much whether or not they are prepared to come dashing over to feed me tea and roll spliffs, it's more a case of whether or not they are truthful in their assertations of their preparedness. I don't care so much whether a friend will drive 400 miles at 3am because I'm having a hard time. I won't love them any the more or less. What does bother me is when someone I love, someone I care for deeply, someone I trust, says that he (impersonal third pronoun - don't get me started on a grammar rant) is prepared to do something, that he cares enough to do something, that he will do something, and then doesn't.

It's dishonesty that gets to me. Some might say that this isn't dishonesty, that it is merely a case of good intentions that have slipped because things got in the way. Well, like I said, sorry if my pain is of inconvenience to you. I feel, deeply, strongly, almost passionately, that having a close, loving relationship with someone, particularly those friends who are so close as to be almost family, should mean that one can trust that person implicitly, that if that person tells you something you should be able to believe them, because otherwise it is a betrayal. I want to be able to believe that what my friends tell me is true, to the best of their knowledge.

Honesty is all I prefer to expect from my friends. The rest is almost irrelevant. I don't own my friends, they're not my possessions, I can't dictate what they can and cannot do, nor would I ever want to. I don't want to possess them.

I do want to be treated honourably.

Well, except Frood. Obviously. He hardly ever tells me the truth, but then that's because most of the time he talks gibberish.