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July 2008 
Insanity
Posted on Apr 28th, 2008
by 
Woman, Interrupted
Woman, Interrupted
Much madness is divinest sense to a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
'Tis the majority in this as all, prevails assent, and you are sane;
Demur, -- you're straightway dangerous, and handled with a chain.
~Emily Dickinson
Oh, it's bad.
I'm handling it with Valium right now. That's messed up. I have completely failed at expansion and have totally contracted down to the death impulse. The nervous system is a powerful thing; so important when we're trying to survive a deadly predator. It's so hard now to interpret this any other way than a deadly threat. Even if no one else sees it that way, they don't have the programming that I have or cannot interface with mine enough to understand.
After finding no one willing to help assess him for Asperger Syndrome and getting squeezed tighter and tighter between the world's demands that he be normal and economically viable, the b/f has descended into his own insanity, drug use and lying again. The tragedy iscompletely intolerable.... wait. No. What words would work here?
Many things have been said about the English Language. But one thing is for sure, it's not adequate to communicate the numinous.
And what is the numinous? Is it something above us and unreachable? Or is it so deep below language that it's expression cannot be articulated in words but only in deeds? What could I do that would express what this tragedy really is? What besides suicide? That is the definitive expression, but such a cliche. Is there anything more creative? Novel?
This is Nine Inch Nails territory.
This world rejects me
This world threw me away
This world never gave me a chance
This world gonna have to pay
Well I don't believe in your institutions
I did what you wanted me to
And like the cancer in your system
I've got a little surprise for you
Something inside of me
Has opened up its eyes
Why did you put it there?
Did you not realise?
This thing inside of me
It screams the loudest sound
Sometimes I think I could
Burn
I look down at where you're standing
Flock of sheep all on display
With all your lies piled up around you
I can take it all away
Something inside of me
Has opened up its eyes
Why did you put it there?
Did you not realise?
This thing inside of me
It screams the loudest sound
Sometimes I think I could
I'm gonna burn this whole world down
I never was a part of you
I am your savior
I am corruption
I am the angel
Of your destruction
I am perversion
Secret desire
I am your future
Swallowed up in fire
I rented the movie "The Cell" last week because over the last year, I have kept thinking about certain bits. Over and over. Finally, I just rented the freakin' thing. I should buy it. There is a hollywood rumor that the amazing and touched Vincent D'nofrio completely lost his marbles while researching for that film.
need you
dream you
find you
taste you
fuck you
use you
scar you
break you
lose me
hate me
smash me
erase me
I don't know if it's a hardware issue or a software issue, but something happened in our nervous system to separate the animal impulses to fuck and kill from the human impulses to love and nurture. Depending on our developmental levels, some of us can tear down the wall and still survive the contradictions, objectification and subjectification together.
you let me violate you, you let me desecrate you
you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you
help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell
help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself
I want to fuck you like an animal
I want to feel you from the inside
I want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything
help me tear down my reason, help me its' your sex I can smell
help me you make me perfect, help me become somebody else
I want to fuck you like an animal
I want to feel you from the inside
I want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god
through every forest, above the trees
within my stomach, scraped off my knees
I drink the honey inside your hive
you are the reason I stay alive
But the transition was not one of gentle evolution. I was looking at some artwork last night from the Toscano site and the Pre-raphaelite stuff really documents the transition. The difference between The Accolade by Leighton and The Ledgend of Sir Percival by Cowper is the difference between our impulse to merely deny the fuck and the impulse to grow into honor. Same woman, same man, two totally different impulses. Killing the Dragon is a pretty consistent image too.
she spread herself wide open to let the insects in
she leaves a trail of honey to show me where she's been
she has the blood of reptile just underneath her skin
seeds from a thousand others drip down from within
oh my beautiful liar
oh my precious whore
my disease my infection
I am so impure
devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest
angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress
need to contaminate to alleviate this loneliness
I now know the depths I reach are limitless
oh my beautiful liar
oh my precious whore
my disease my infection
I am so impure
Reznor really encapsulates the male side. No doubt there are women out there who really articulate the female side. I find it nearly impossible to listen to them. It's nauseating. But that's what it is to be a woman. In order to survive we identify with the man. Identifying with ourselves = starvation. Our hunger is to disappear. Ironic how it's the same for Reznor.
His poetry soothes me.
I guess the numbness and indifference is part of what it is to be pre-conscious. It's comforting because it aleviates the sense of contradiction and ambivalence. And in that mindset, sex and death are all we can feel. Okay. So, rather than descend into that nihilistic situation - because we really can't go home again - we take Valium. It's an amnesiac. Did you know that?
Here's more wonderful reptilian bliss from Opeth:
Heal myself-a feather on my heart
Look inside-there never was a start
Peel myself-dispose of severed skin
All subsides-around me and within
There's nothing painful in this
There's no upheaval
Redemption for my pathos
All sins undone
Awaiting word on what's to come
In helpless prayers a hope lives on
As I've come clean I've forgotten what I promised
In the rays of the sun I am longing for the darkness
Descend and be hunted down and restrained.
Ascend and go mad.
Integrate or die.
Open.
Open.
Open.
...
In order to act, you must be somewhat insane.
A reasonably sensible man is satisfied with thinking.
~George Clemenceau
We have a new Participant at work right now who probably has what most would call schizophrenia. He is more sane than I am at the moment...
Much sense the starkest madness.
'Tis the majority in this as all, prevails assent, and you are sane;
Demur, -- you're straightway dangerous, and handled with a chain.
~Emily Dickinson
Oh, it's bad.
I'm handling it with Valium right now. That's messed up. I have completely failed at expansion and have totally contracted down to the death impulse. The nervous system is a powerful thing; so important when we're trying to survive a deadly predator. It's so hard now to interpret this any other way than a deadly threat. Even if no one else sees it that way, they don't have the programming that I have or cannot interface with mine enough to understand.
After finding no one willing to help assess him for Asperger Syndrome and getting squeezed tighter and tighter between the world's demands that he be normal and economically viable, the b/f has descended into his own insanity, drug use and lying again. The tragedy is
Many things have been said about the English Language. But one thing is for sure, it's not adequate to communicate the numinous.
And what is the numinous? Is it something above us and unreachable? Or is it so deep below language that it's expression cannot be articulated in words but only in deeds? What could I do that would express what this tragedy really is? What besides suicide? That is the definitive expression, but such a cliche. Is there anything more creative? Novel?
This is Nine Inch Nails territory.
This world rejects me
This world threw me away
This world never gave me a chance
This world gonna have to pay
Well I don't believe in your institutions
I did what you wanted me to
And like the cancer in your system
I've got a little surprise for you
Something inside of me
Has opened up its eyes
Why did you put it there?
Did you not realise?
This thing inside of me
It screams the loudest sound
Sometimes I think I could
Burn
I look down at where you're standing
Flock of sheep all on display
With all your lies piled up around you
I can take it all away
Something inside of me
Has opened up its eyes
Why did you put it there?
Did you not realise?
This thing inside of me
It screams the loudest sound
Sometimes I think I could
I'm gonna burn this whole world down
I never was a part of you
I am your savior
I am corruption
I am the angel
Of your destruction
I am perversion
Secret desire
I am your future
Swallowed up in fire
I rented the movie "The Cell" last week because over the last year, I have kept thinking about certain bits. Over and over. Finally, I just rented the freakin' thing. I should buy it. There is a hollywood rumor that the amazing and touched Vincent D'nofrio completely lost his marbles while researching for that film.
need you
dream you
find you
taste you
fuck you
use you
scar you
break you
lose me
hate me
smash me
erase me
I don't know if it's a hardware issue or a software issue, but something happened in our nervous system to separate the animal impulses to fuck and kill from the human impulses to love and nurture. Depending on our developmental levels, some of us can tear down the wall and still survive the contradictions, objectification and subjectification together.
you let me violate you, you let me desecrate you
you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you
help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell
help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself
I want to fuck you like an animal
I want to feel you from the inside
I want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything
help me tear down my reason, help me its' your sex I can smell
help me you make me perfect, help me become somebody else
I want to fuck you like an animal
I want to feel you from the inside
I want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god
through every forest, above the trees
within my stomach, scraped off my knees
I drink the honey inside your hive
you are the reason I stay alive
But the transition was not one of gentle evolution. I was looking at some artwork last night from the Toscano site and the Pre-raphaelite stuff really documents the transition. The difference between The Accolade by Leighton and The Ledgend of Sir Percival by Cowper is the difference between our impulse to merely deny the fuck and the impulse to grow into honor. Same woman, same man, two totally different impulses. Killing the Dragon is a pretty consistent image too.
she spread herself wide open to let the insects in
she leaves a trail of honey to show me where she's been
she has the blood of reptile just underneath her skin
seeds from a thousand others drip down from within
oh my beautiful liar
oh my precious whore
my disease my infection
I am so impure
devils speak of the ways in which she'll manifest
angels bleed from the tainted touch of my caress
need to contaminate to alleviate this loneliness
I now know the depths I reach are limitless
oh my beautiful liar
oh my precious whore
my disease my infection
I am so impure
Reznor really encapsulates the male side. No doubt there are women out there who really articulate the female side. I find it nearly impossible to listen to them. It's nauseating. But that's what it is to be a woman. In order to survive we identify with the man. Identifying with ourselves = starvation. Our hunger is to disappear. Ironic how it's the same for Reznor.
His poetry soothes me.
I guess the numbness and indifference is part of what it is to be pre-conscious. It's comforting because it aleviates the sense of contradiction and ambivalence. And in that mindset, sex and death are all we can feel. Okay. So, rather than descend into that nihilistic situation - because we really can't go home again - we take Valium. It's an amnesiac. Did you know that?
Here's more wonderful reptilian bliss from Opeth:
Heal myself-a feather on my heart
Look inside-there never was a start
Peel myself-dispose of severed skin
All subsides-around me and within
There's nothing painful in this
There's no upheaval
Redemption for my pathos
All sins undone
Awaiting word on what's to come
In helpless prayers a hope lives on
As I've come clean I've forgotten what I promised
In the rays of the sun I am longing for the darkness
Descend and be hunted down and restrained.
Ascend and go mad.
Integrate or die.
Open.
Open.
Open.
...
In order to act, you must be somewhat insane.
A reasonably sensible man is satisfied with thinking.
~George Clemenceau
We have a new Participant at work right now who probably has what most would call schizophrenia. He is more sane than I am at the moment...
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