Packaged thoughts

Thought of the day

I have written down on a little piece of paper a recommendation which provides a wicked and sweet counterbalance to one of my most basic drives in life, that of being Mother of the Universe with unsound responsibility and boundless LOVE :

Simple adjustment: screw everyone.

I keep forgetting that I have written this, and I laugh everytime I find that little piece of paper. Oh, sweet Caroline. It′s between you and me and the rest of the world.

Book recommendation of the week

The Mindbody Prescription, by Dr John E. Sarno. Someone gave me the book. It worked its way gently, progressively to my core, over a period of a few weeks. But I had been prepared by studying Freud and Lacan last fall at the university. A very appropriate hypothesis for most of my aches and pain. Evidence in my life is piling up.

Repressed anger = Pain and fatigue.

Try and tell people who seldom see you angry something like 'I have the right to be angry', show them some amount of anger, and see them freak out. My mother freaked out last night. She raised an arm as if to slap me. No more, mother. You will never hit me again. Crazy bitch.

About kittens

A funny thread on masturbation: Cat killing. I tried this line on a friend : ‘Let's shoot kittens together’, and his reply was : ‘Kittens are interesting creatures...’ Ooo Kaay... I got it.

My last dream

I was a clown living with clowns, and eventually one of the clowns started flirting with me, although we were a closely knitted family of clowns, he could have been a brother clown.

We sat on a bus, me still in my clown disguise and him too, and he put my hand over his hand, which he put over his crotch. And to people passing by who were not really passing by, i.e. invisible people, he said : ‘I have to hide an erection caused by this beautiful lady who is leaning on me here, and I have to warm up her hand too’. I was not touching his erection directly, my hand was on top of his hand (very warm indeed) which was over his crotch.

In the same dream, I found that I had shat and vomited on myself. In the dream I remember this was meant to repulse other clowns and stop them from assaulting me. I disagree with the extreme nature of such measure. But I know where that part of the dream comes from: last night I wrote a piece about how my mom hit me when I was shitting on me, at age 1 ½. It is also a common 'thing' with me in dreams. Early trauma in life associated with the day of my paralysis. One of my first symptoms, one for which I was scold (again, by my mother), was an incapacity to control my bowels, resulting in me making a mess at my grandmother’s house, and being cleaned in grand-mommy's bathroom, while my legs were already limp. (Of course, now, EVERYTHING is under tight control.)

At the end of the dream, I remember falling asleep and waking up with my hair damp, back to being myself without a disguise and makeup, and someone telling me I had been bathed and undressed while I was asleep... by girls. Then I met my lovely clown, who was coming out of another room, and wondered if he would still like me without my wig and costume and makeup. He was with another guy exactly like him, just redder : he said ‘this is my twin’, about the guy who had redder hair, then he told me : ‘Let's hang out together at my place tonight′ [he meant me and him, his twin brother was not included]. I was relieved he still wanted me.