Insidious Adaptation

Coping, escaping, feeling, distracting, hurting, pleasure, passing time, alternative states of mind, consciousness; all reasons, great ones at that, as to why a person would use what is so commonly referred to as, “drugs.” Drugs, for they are a nasty beast, or at least get a nasty reputation, enter the body, stimulate the brain, and artificially stimulate in what would otherwise have been an impossible situation. I mean, how else could I stay up for two nights in college to ace a test, only to feel extremely depressed and slightly paranoid afterward? How else can a man see the world inside his carpet and imagine little creatures stealing his pills? How else can another person relax at all, for they have what a psychologist referred to as the physiological implications of “trauma?” How else can one person get an erection, while another person fall madly in lust, both disregarding all social implications?   These alterations of an average self, a desire among the common folk. A ...

It is neither here, nor there. It is not found in any THING . It is not in addition to, nor removal of. Contentment is a baseline of acceptance of place in life. Place being physically, the state, or mentally. To be is just that. To find it is a lot harder trying to explain than something a person can add or takeaway from their life. To feel the BEING, is a gift, one that is no better or worse than anything else, nor can be bragged as such.  This vague cloud of abstract words, with their pompous sentence structure, is all indicative of a concept people miss on a daily basis. That which lies right ion front of us, yet me misdirect energies to try and capture it through misguided means. This, as evident by desires and dissatisfaction when those desires are not met. For contentment is to me, the most ideal state of mind, and what I fathom Heaven to be like. I feel like we get glimpses of the afterlife sometimes here on earth. Maybe an early morning writing session, where it is n...

“Damnit!” This as my U-Haul truck crunches into the front cover of the turn signal on the industrial work van.  “Go figure.” I say to myself, working on my cussing.  Panic now starts to wash over me, as this once arrogant handing of a 25 foot U-Haul is sandwiched between two work vans, one of which has been damaged. As I continue to pull forward, I look in the oversized, and rusty-rimmed side mirror to see, in fact, that the U-Haul is going to continue to scrape where the light protector used to be no matter which direction I go.  Old physics lessons play in my head, trajectory and all that, stuff I can only recall learning about while playing pool, more than any class. OK, if I turn the wheel this way, I can alter the trajectory of the back end, CRUUNCH, OK, that actually did the opposite. Now I will turn the other way.  SCCCRAAAPPPE. Ah, now I am into a tree on the other side of the bottleneck to the cul- de- sack. OK, OK, now if I drive a little...