Asphalt Waves and Good Books

When I was 7, or 8 maybe, they canceled school as they did for my kids today. Now, it wasn’t for the snow, I lived in the high desert of the Mojave and it did indeed snow there from time to time, no, this day they canceled school because it was simply too damn hot. I couldn’t give you the numbers, I was a kid and I didn’t pay attention to that. What I do remember is the reason my mother said I couldn’t go outside.

The asphalt was melting see.

They thought of the street turning into so wave of blackness to swallow me whole terrified me beyond rational thought and I spent this day where the temperatures had to be in the upper limits of human endurance hiding in my closet so I wouldn’t get swallowed by the street.

Yeah, I was a troubled child.

I would have panic attacks like this more often as we lived in Lancaster longer and longer. Earthquakes, melting asphalt, my mother getting out of her room for the first time in a week, CPS, school, and on and on.

A totally irrational fear of things that were above and beyond any sphere of control I was aware of. School never did it to me, personal interactions, meetings, but when it came to things I couldn’t micromanage, that is when I would collapse into the little closet that I spent so much time in that I had a blanket, a lamp and the books that kept me sane by taking me far away from scary things like the San Andreas fault line and 125 degrees in the shade.

I may not have a closet anymore, but I still have the panic attacks, I just got better books and sweet air conditioning.

So I Need To Make Some Changes, Internally and Externally and What Better Way To Do That Than To Shave My Head and Try Direct Confrontation Therapy?

I took some time this morning long before the sun came up and I smiled at the world and found ways it smiled back at me. It was an easy enough thing to see the wonderful things around me because be it temporary or permanent, my outlook has changed in that I do not go and hunt the negative things, it is not the first thing I gravitate to any longer, it is not, forgive the reference, the albatross about my neck dragging me down.

Fairly confident I can keep this mental conditioning for a bit, I need to work on another thing that I have a gigantic problem with, and that is getting out of the house. It was agoraphobia, or some milder version of the same malady, at first, but lately, it is this complete feeling of ennui, this weakness, that comes with the thought of leaving the house and I am not quite sure where that comes from. I have some ideas, but I am no closer now than I have been in months. Yes, I know money is a thing I do not have a lot of so I can’t do all the things all of the time, but even I can afford to do some of the things some of the time. There is no reason for me to say no over and over again other than a block inside of me that I am desperately trying to pull away. I miss my people so very much and I have no idea how to get from where I am to them just right now because that bridge in the middle is apparently on fire.

Maybe I can start small and take walks, work my way outward a bit? Maybe I can try and find a therapist who will see me and get it sorted out that way? I will look into all available options because the worst part is that the part of my brain that is in this wonderful mood is also the part of the brain that wants to see my friends and kiss their cheeks and lift them up in the air and spin them around until they squeak and have a beer or fifteen and get on with the night in the best possible ways I can do that thing.

Now, in other news, or news I already said but now I am going to elaborate on.

I’m going to shave my head. It’s not a maybe anymore, it is a thing I am going to do and I have even set a tentative date to do the thing. Terry, one of the smartest men I have ever known, has been telling me for years that sometimes you need to do a thing you can look at in the mirror and see every day. A tangible thing, a thing that you know you did and not something you a spite to do or simply talk about.

This November would have been fifteen years for Naomi and I. The number in and of itself is not particularly significant, the anniversary is though. That ate is the timeline I have in my head to do the thing. I think it will be a point in which I can look back at and say that it was the beginning of a thing, just as it was the beginning of so many years of wonderful happiness for Naomi and me.

Now, I am not stupid, there is a reason I have no given myself a haircut since the Great Scissor Incident of 1987. I plan to have someone very important to me do it and who I trust. I won’t lie, part of me wants to see how bald I am getting without all the extra hair masking everything. Will I look good? I am not concerned about that to tell you the truth. This is about looking like some awesome person, it is about changing me in the ways I need to change me to become more of myself than I have been in a very long time. So just before Thanksgiving, look out for the Bald and Bearded Bear in your neck of the woods.


Walk Amongst The Decay of The World To See The Beauty Of The Universe

There is a place where the mind cannot think, the darkest of the areas that we have evolved past, not needing the constant fear of the dark and sounds in the night. We feel these things, but they do not dominate our minds as they did when our kind was still on all fours in Central Africa and the continents and the stars looked much different than they do now. We don’t use the hair on our arms for what it was once used for, nor are our eyes and ears as sharp as they were when we had to look through the darkness to see if we were going to be food for that which lurked where we could not see. This place in our minds grew smaller and smaller as our brains grew more extensive, and we became the dominant species on the planet.

It never left, not entirely.

We still feel little twinges of things from time to time. The fear we cannot explain and look behind us for no reason other than we just felt that uncontrollable desire to do so.

That is what She was.

She is the desire to turn around and make sure you weren’t being followed. She was waking up with your heart pounding in the middle of the night and your mouth open and ready to scream. There is nothing in the world that does not feel what she is. No dog that doesn’t bark, no cat that won’t scream. She is the constant fear, the bump in the night, it is all the doing of She Who Wakes Early.

There is no bodily form to match the fear where we are. No boogie man that will chase you into the dark alley.

It comes off Her as sweat comes from us. It is something She produces as readily and automatic as a breath: fear and darkness, wretchedness and despair, terror, and the panic of the night.

She stood in the Root, the center of Everything and Nothing.

There was a breaking of an invisible chain as the Water gave Siobhan what the Dark Goddess had been craving since time began. There was no way That She could leave, but upon hearing the name of the bitter hate in her heart, she licked lips like pulsing veins with a tongue of broken glass sharpness and smiled, rotting teeth matching the frame it carried — a short thing with stumps for limbs and black eyes like endless pools of night.

Screaming was her voice, and with it, she welcomed what was to come, the nightmare Siobhan could only blame herself for.

“Come Sisssster, let us finally kiss and be made whole to each other.”