...
I would like to be a person who gets up by 5am at the latest. This requires getting to sleep by 9pm at least most nights, no? Yes. 9pm is approximately when I start coming to the party... unless, usually, I've gotten up at 5am. I come to the party much faster when I'm up that early. Still, there is that monster of getting to sleep by 9 every night.
Finding pot still makes me too damned uncomfortable before it gets me to sleep, and viscerally unwilling to become a pill head to get to sleep, this pretty much leaves me at the whim of the buddhas as to when I go to sleep, when I get up, when I come to the party.
Have you any idea how difficult this makes it to conduct my life in meatspace?
Still, I want what I want, aspire to that which inspires me, and a 9 to 5 sleep cycle... at night... is my wish... and I have expressed it very recently in a to-the-bone telephone conversation... which are the only kind I can bear for more than a minute these days... so, obviously, I'm usually shocked when the phone rings. Sometime around 5 this morning a word popped into my head. I said it to myself a few times and then marveled about how it seemed a pleasing combination of "astro" and "koyaanisqatsi"... so then forgot the original word... maybe astroanisqatsi... possibly word from my indian ancestry about life in space or spaced-out life....
By the time I'd become vexed about losing the original word it became clear that I was awake. So I got up to pee, thinking that would send me back to sleep. But I was awake. At the party behind my own back. I had no idea what time it was, but when I found out it was 5:35am.
So I got some work done.
By the time it became too demoralizing to keep working, I switched modes and started to work on something else. This is becoming increasingly difficult as it is becoming increasingly easier. I have discovered the mechanism that produces hoarders.
In my lengthening hermitude, and what with my big project to pull my life together, moving all the shit out of my main room and off out of the way for the upgrade in here, it is now more apparent than ever that my mind does not live in my body alone. Maybe over so many decades there's no more room for it in here and it has spread out to accommodate all that mentation.
For instance, I have a very heavy full-length mirror that I have had propped up against the wall in here, right where this room transitions into the kitchen. I have moved it down to the end of the hall least traveled temporarily. Since doing this a few days ago, I have found myself stopped at the spot where it was and becoming vexed by the absence there approximately twenty times a day. Evidently that's where I go to deposit what I was just doing to wait for me while I'm doing the next thing and I swing back for it later.
Except for moments to check the gestalt when putting myself together to venture into the agora, I never even notice myself at that mirror, didn't know I looked in it so many times a day... like you never think to stop to gape at one of of your synapses to figure out where that neuron got to... never realize you're there looking for it. Well it's the same with my damn mirror.
My hands shoot out to grab this that or the other thing that isn't here on my desk just now every five minutes.
Everything is wrong.
Everything is nearly right.
And I begin to wonder if a monastery might be more comfortable than a cave.
always and any time....
