Cymbalta & Bad Technology

20130304-231250.jpg Tonight is the first night that I've taken my newest prescription, Cymbalta. The name reminds me of a warrior of some type. I spent the last two days not on any meds at all, and I was fine; however today as I woke up late for my appointment with Tim, I dreaded my visit to Dr. Lagrone's office. I thought about not going.

The peculiar thing is that Dr. Lagrone chose this antidepressant because it was what he had free samples of... As silly of an idea that is, I think it's just as silly for me to take the drugs knowing that.

I'm sure I've taken worse before; I'd hope so at least.

Tonight I watch "I, Robot" & "2010: the year we made contact". Both movies have a theme of technology gone wrong, creation turning against creator, and the consequences of human flaw. I wonder what parallels lie between that and the gospel.

I feel tired, but unable to sleep. I'm wiggly in my joints. I'm not sure how I feel about being medicated still. It's very scary to me

101; the digital age; & antidepressants

20130301-202917.jpgBack in the summer of 2010, I started this blog. "This Intangible Existence," dressed in a classic serif font floating atop my brand new place to write.

At first I only wrote transcripts of my journals. Then followed formal essay type entries, and blurbs about pop culture. At that time I was primarily creating and writing in a more traditional since, e.g., wall hangings, journals, instant film, & discs. I tried earnestly to be an analog artist.

Despite my efforts, my artistic and spiritual journey has led me to a digital realm; it's a lot like the place inside of me from which all my work pours from.

With the burning of my books, which happened shortly before I began hosting my words in this space, it seems my work has taken a different highway towards the digital medium;

this intangible existence.

Today is my fifth day on the drug Viibryd. Today was the day that I knew this drug was bad [for me]. I broke down at work and had to leave. I called the doctor, and he said to stop taking the drug, and see him on Monday. I see Tim that morning also.

More sorrowing than the depression is the realization that I'm actually going crazy, and this is an attempt to take control before its too late. I don't know what that means exactly, but this is not what I expected my way out to look like.

A line runs through my mind that is parallel to that of People's Temple & Heaven's Gate; Am I in the line with the citizens if Jonestown, awaiting my glass of Kool-Aid handed to me by some American conspiracy to control the masses in a George Orwell novel?

Or-

Am I really sick, and is this the best decision that's I've ever made in parenting myself as an adult? Maybe I should move to Colorado, Washington, or California. Maybe I should run back to Jesus; these are all attempts to fix myself, and the truth is that I am not God.

A very sad day this has been [for me].

This is the third day that I'm on an antidepressant.I'm having to learn and adjust to this new way of living. Or is it new? I'm having to learn how to be creative in new way. I have to adapt to these surroundings. No more books, like there used to be.

"Greeting from America;" I thought to myself... Should I even think it at all? Would you or could you Really restore the years I've lost to the insects? I wouldn't be mad about it really. These words are new. These words are public. It's as if I'm forced to be Over Cheesy Over Redundant Over Easy

O CO ROC

THE MUSIC IS GROWING Do I see roots growing? Lord I see roots. Can we speak on such terms?

outgoing/\/\essage;;;

specimen shows sign of life underwater I still haven't read the assigned text Alien cohabitant is still close vasinity I've begun reciting the message in a local gathering I hope you find it pleasing;;;vole't

Cult Leaders

20130220-095402.jpg I'm not sure what gets me the most about this whole thing: the fact that so many people died because of their faith, or that so many people died because of the shepherds that lead the to the slaughter.

The leaders offer themselves with the rest of their loyal & not so loyal followers.

I wonder how it felt to be the first person in Jonestown to give the S.O.S. note to the congressman. I wonder how Jim Jones felt when the congressman told him he was taken part of his fold.

I wonder what it felt like to be in the line waiting for you serving of a refreshing glass of Kool-aid red death, and thinking to yourself--"I've got to get out of this line... Now!" However, you never make it, and instead you follow the line with the rest of the peers your first walked in with; all toasting to yours and their death.

Jonestown

I think it's a peculiar thing; this happening was an act of faith. I'm sure that there were some people there who actually didn't want to drink the notorious "kool-aid", but I honestly believe out of the 900+ people who drank to their death toasted before their consumption. This is about those people:

This is more than an act of protest. This is more than a revolutionary convincing a heard of sheep that this is what is best for you. This is an act of faith; this is an attempt to make the intangible tangible. They believed that this would save them. They died the way they chose to die.

I'm not sure how I would respond to my own belief system if suddenly there was a change in the itinerary that would bring me to a place like this: martyrdom.

This is a big step to take. For more on this happening please click HERE or HERE.

20130210-101610.jpgIt's all intangible. The things we think we know about the past Things that we think we know are going I in other countries What you know of politics What you know about faith or religion

We take these things in to the core of our being. They are processed Bit and pieces taken from there and yonder Recreated in our own minds

We are left with our own existence. The remanufactured interpretations Of the things we know, Trust, and believe

That is what this is This existence of sweet nothing An intangible world: In which, Of nothing else, Have or will I experience

This Intangible Existence

20130108-120438.jpg Right now I'm listening to the acoustic EP that I recorded last night with Billy Hillman. There were a few cover, two young sprouts, and a bunch of my very good old friends. It didn't take me long to find them all in there own wandering orbits. There was one that I really wish could have been part if the story, however I was unable to find the autumn--crimson of its sphere. I hope the mission I set to accomplish with this work will come to fruition; It's been a long time since I felt this accomplished with a work. The music should be on iTunes & other online media sources.

Something really cool is about to start.

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