The Doctors Office: Act 4

After some careful consideration — and you know my, I consider it all fairly carefully, really — I have decided that today is the day I make my clean break. It seems more logical (and you know me, as a man of sound logic, like the sound of a hammer hitting the nail’s head) to do it today vs. any other day, when I may perhaps be distracted by the state of affairs, or of things I may see outside my window, or people I meet when I perhaps do not want to meet them.

More importantly rather than less importantly, I’ve decided to give the doctor’s office one more shot (even though we know what happened last time), and I think I know what I’ve done wrong: I haven’t been true to myself.

Yes, true, it’s true, I haven’t been true to myself. I haven’t fully explained myself — I mean, I HAVE explained myself, but not fully, and by that I mean I haven’t displayed my true character, while I have displayed my personality and expressed my mood, and this is something I should do, indeed, if I want to continuedown the path.

And I’ve decided that I need to do this with my mask, all the way on, I really do think. See, I find it hard for people to take me seriously just as I am. So I’m going to find some other way to make it work.

I do think one of the greatest risks in this world is overexposure. It is much more difficult a task to hide oneself from the dangers that can easily occur once you let yourself go: scrutiny, pity, and even jealousy can head your way. It is best, in my mind, that these emotions are kept behind close doors, as they only add to the growing trauma that builds within this world and manifests itself on an individual level oftentimes.

Personally I must say this is selfish, as I have been a victim of the world’s trauma on numerous occassions. Selfishly, then, I must take this step in order to get back at the world for making me miserable on a consistent basis.

So, today, I will head out to get the things in which I need to survive. Before I have done this with the help of my mask, although this has been during the other part of my journey toward self-fulfillment. I have now decided, as part of my plan, or maybe as an altered step in my pre-existing plan, to wear the mask at this stage as well, to ensure my success at this level, or at least to help ensure my success at some level, with myself in mind!

It is somewhat earlier in the day than I choose to operate that I am now operating, and I am moving outside my door and down the street to my destination.  I am wearing my mask and, as always, I am equipped with my layers (the hot Miami sun, it comes and goes, and when it goes I want to be prepared, see?), and I have my plan in my head.  I will follow the steps in order to get what I want and then get on my way.  I have this thing figured out, and I’m here, so let the fun begin.

I’m greeting this doctor like I greet the other ones, with a handshake and a nod, although I usually get a different reaction.  This time around, this doctor, he is puzzled.  He wants to inquire immediately about my status underneath this mask, and I just am not going to give up that kind of information just for the sake of giving up that type of information, because I do respect my privacy, even if this man doesn’t.  Unfortunately he seems to be persistent; he wants to know more about me, and to do so he must see my face.  I mean, this isn’t going like I planned, but that’s fine, I’ll take the mask off.  I grab at the back of my neck and pull forward–

–and I’m in a different place, in the lair of my “man”, as he jumps back in shock.  I knew it was you!, he says, as he almost falls back in scrambling for something on the table.   It is a weapon, a sharp weapon, or a loaded weapon — it seems I can’t tell — but a weapon nonetheless.  He lunges toward me as I duck off to the side, a near miss, and I push a chair in his path.  I’m grabbing for a small table when on it I see something familiar, yes–

The ashtray.  I grab it with my forefinger and thumb as I bolt for the door, which thankfully is still open, and straight out onto the street, running and running and running some more, blocks away, still running and running and sweating under my layers, and I do not know where my mask is but it is not here, and running until gradually the night has come, and I can not see but I keep running, running, until I stop.

I turn around and no one is behind me.

That is good, because I have just run a long way, longer and farther away than maybe anyone has ever run from where they once were, and I am especially tired, and ready to collapse, and this is fine. I’ll just lay down here and sleep it off.

Interlude : the Stabbing of Words

I have to go back and think about my use of the word “stab”, as this can
tend to have some violent connotations in this world we live in.
Historically, if we were to think about the context in which stabbing was
used, we would think about war, about battle, about assassination, about bad
blood between two individuals (or, at least WITHIN one individual and
directed towards another, as stabbing is, at times, a one-way street).
Throughout the years the stab tended to have a dark sort of vibe attached to
it.

I, for one, would like this to change, as I intend to use this word for the
good of things, especially my own things and myself.  When I think about a
stab, I think about my will and determination and everything that wells up
inside me when I want to accomplish a goal of sorts. A goal is sometimes not
understood until (or much after) it is achieved, simply because that goal is
within a territory that has not had many goals previously associated with
it. This is often my case, as I seem to blaze new territory often or at
least often enough that I need to think about these sorts of things, with
this new territory not being necessarily new because someone else surely had
been there although it is difficult to see without the evidence of tracks in
the ground or air and this again comes back to my indifference towards
communicating with others who I may indeed would have related to if I were
to make the effort of being social.  And you know what I indeed think about
being social and of course being fashionable as an extension of that.

So, see, I will not back down from using the word “stab” and to talk about
“stabbing” or to “take a stab at something”, mainly because these actions
are not directed toward anyone in particular or at least anyone who is not
myself, and really you should know that wanting to stab yourself is not a
crime (except in the places of the world where it is a crime as it typically
results in suicide, but we can talk more about that later) and that if you
do not take stabs you will not get the things accomplished and the questions
answered that need to be accomplished and answered, respectively, as it may
be.  I really do find this to be true, yes!