i am un chien andalusia
In another life I dated a woman whose sister is mildly autistic, whateverthehell that means. She collected those little plastic jobbies that hold loaves of bread shut, and the plastic rings you tear off the tops of gallon milk jugs. A typical conversation with her went something like this:
On her own her autism was obvious, but she didn't seem too 'out there' when seen in proximity to her non-autistic sister. Which says something about the way small changes that make sense can accumulate until there's a steep reality gradient and things that would have seemed wacky from where you started make perfect sense, thank you very much. I think it's one of the fundamental forces driving this universe. A tautological Law of Conservation of Viewpoint.
Like that deal with frogs, where if you (I'm not advocating this, btw) throw a frog into a pot of boiling water (please don't) it will freak and jump out, but if you put it in a pot of room-temperature water and slowly turn up the heat until it's boiling, the frog will just sit there and cook. With me the 'heat' is some neurochemical imbalance being driven into instability by chronic pain, medication, the goddam psychotic tweetybird that is living with us for awhile, and plain old bugfuck stir-craziness.
I've been travelling a bit lately, in this sense. Surfing the reality gradient. One thing leads to another, and the next time I am 'conscious' I look back and wonder what the fuck just happened over the last few days... 'I' am having to reply to emails that refer to letters some other me wrote. I'm aware of it just long enough to get all paranoid about it, then 'I' get subsumed by the waves and start all over again. I am Billy Pilgrim, unstuck in time.
It would be nice to run into my old friend's sister again... I think I finally understand about the water heaters.
Her: (humming for twenty minutes, then suddenly giggling)
Me: "What are you thinking about?"
Her: "Oh, you know... water heaters..."
On her own her autism was obvious, but she didn't seem too 'out there' when seen in proximity to her non-autistic sister. Which says something about the way small changes that make sense can accumulate until there's a steep reality gradient and things that would have seemed wacky from where you started make perfect sense, thank you very much. I think it's one of the fundamental forces driving this universe. A tautological Law of Conservation of Viewpoint.
Like that deal with frogs, where if you (I'm not advocating this, btw) throw a frog into a pot of boiling water (please don't) it will freak and jump out, but if you put it in a pot of room-temperature water and slowly turn up the heat until it's boiling, the frog will just sit there and cook. With me the 'heat' is some neurochemical imbalance being driven into instability by chronic pain, medication, the goddam psychotic tweetybird that is living with us for awhile, and plain old bugfuck stir-craziness.
I've been travelling a bit lately, in this sense. Surfing the reality gradient. One thing leads to another, and the next time I am 'conscious' I look back and wonder what the fuck just happened over the last few days... 'I' am having to reply to emails that refer to letters some other me wrote. I'm aware of it just long enough to get all paranoid about it, then 'I' get subsumed by the waves and start all over again. I am Billy Pilgrim, unstuck in time.
It would be nice to run into my old friend's sister again... I think I finally understand about the water heaters.
3 Comments:
I loved this post.
Because, because. I< am the Wizard of Oz.
Way to turn up the heat on my frog.
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