Tuesday December 18th 2007, 6:57 am
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

My progression,

There are nights in which my only outlet for my anxiety is intoxication– not always alcohol, but intoxication in the metaphorical sense. To stimulate my senses in strange, unique and sporadic avenues, whether it is by extreme focus or extreme disjointment. I intoxicate my mind, thus intoxicating my memories of you, which re-route these anxieties into dithered and confused pathways. Is this a normal activity, or better, is this a healthy way to cope with mental anguish? What do you do when you feel asphyxiated by your own chemistry? My fists clench into balls of iron-flesh and wish for nothing more than to slam into a hardened surface. However, I have enough scars on my knuckles to last a lifetime; I’ve even broken a few bones by hitting hard surfaces. But the consequences of those actions are too severe for those anxious moments of madness. Something subtler is more efficient to ward off these “demons.” Preoccupation with art, music, friends, etc. helps to keep me from reaching such extreme levels of anxiety. However, when I find myself alone and contemplating the life I’m living, my preoccupation with divergence morphs into a preoccupation with you (my better side- relatively speaking). When I become preoccupied with you and consequently with my reasons as to why things didn’t work out, I feel a surge of violence rush through me. Not violence towards you– oh god, I would never hurt you. Please don’t ever think otherwise – but violence towards the fates, circumstance and even the whole hegemony of love. What had started as a wishful adventure into the realm of an unknown love developed into something dark and cold. Brilliance turned into desolace as the days turn to night. All things end, except, for PI (but the scientists are still working on that one). But what I mean is that all things mortal, all things sentient, perish. Progression digresses, love turns to hate, man turns to mush, and we are caught in the tsunamis of synthesis. Isn’t this violent process naturally subsequent with the violence I feel late at night alone in my room? The hardest siege between two extremes is when laughter turns to tears. But my assumption is that the neurological centers of the brain, which control these limbic functions, must be near one another. As the laughter centers of the brain become super saturated with stimulus, the surrounding neurons become activated, thus inducing a seemingly bi-polar effect on the body. When we become intoxicated by whatever stimulus, our brain finds ways to incorporate all the incoming signals. I guess an easy way to visualize such a process is by imagining an ice tray that is to be filled with water. When enough water fills the space of one ice cube, the water then overflows into the surrounding spaces. This overflow, or intoxication if you will, is that which causes sporadic anxiety, as much as it cures such anxious moments. I’m sorry to bore you with this letter.


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