The Me That Is Not Actually... Me

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I don't know if I'm just written out or that I've written off as much of the world as I care to. More and more I appear to realize that I got nothing to say to people who don't wanna hear it. I haven't said or written anything in weeks that my correspondents don't already know more than I do about it. My cup runneth over.

There was another case of me being the last to know last night. My friend came by and we were talking about old time music. He plays guitar, mandolin, and fiddle among other instruments. He was playing my digital piano as we talked, and suddenly asked me, as if outta the blue, "Do you know the Ashokan Farewell?", and he started picking it out in a simple chord style on the piano. It was the fiddle song in the Ken Burns Civil War documentary and other Ken Burns videos on the National Parks. I recognized it immediately.

When my eyes lit up for recognizing it and I told him "Yeah, I know that song.", he asked me if I had seen the video of it on YouTube. Huh? "Yeah, the guy who wrote it has a video on Youtube." WTF? The guy who wrote that song is alive? He said, "Go to YouTube Search and type in Jay Ungar." I did. Here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sx6dxrhqPZY

I seem to be calming down a little from doing the prednisone series. I've had lots of warnings about how tight my writing became in the last week or so. The only way I know that the steroids have me wacked out and over the top with some trivial subject is the fact that I'm there when I open the bottle and take out the proper dosage and throw it back with some kind of liquid to wash the tablets down.

The one thing about taking prescribed steroids is that there are perfectly good examples from what's shown on TV about the affects of un-prescribed steroids. The drugs I take for the painful swelling associated with rheumatoid arthritis is not the same kind that weightlifters employ.

The "roid-rage" can be very similar if what I'm experiencing can be compared to the antics of the professional athletes who appear to be even better or more proficient liars than I am is. I've never used any of those kind of steroids for any reason, but I might use them if I could afford it.

Especially human growth hormone. From what I've gleaned from some very shallow reading HGT doesn't share all the negative side-effects of the anabolic steroids or even prednisone. Just like steroids allow athletes to build strong muscles, human growth hormone can make the primary organs of the body strong too. Like the heart muscles, and even the lungs and kidneys.

Using these products in order to extend one's life and good health is an entire industry now. That's what I meant when I stated that I couldn't afford the growth hormone and the snazzily custom-built steroids. I can afford to sign up with the clinics who supervise this sort of stuff, and I might not get involved without a competent, experienced medico to rule the roost I just might go to.

A friend explained what the problem can be, more than likely will be, if a person uses steroids regularly. Your body stops producing it's own steroids when you use the artificial ones, then you gotta have the external steroids to survive the pain of not producing them naturally. The results are shown on the 6 O'clock almost daily. Nobody wants that. I don't. But, I might play around the edges of it because I'm like adventure, and I'm a dedicated psychonaut. Who knows?

The importance of writing my way through everything that happens in my life, much less when I'm walking the wire with steroids, is how I describe what happens to me IS what happens to me in a very direct link. I deliberately employ a technique called Reframing that I learned from my studies and the seminars I attended to grok neurolinguistic programming (NLP). Reframing amounts to changing one's personal history.

I've written about it before and I've written about how I use this blog to explore drifting thoughts so that if they interest me and they allow me to think I can use them to reframe some aspect of my personal history, then I capture them with words and put them to work for me.

Most of the reframing I do presently has to do with simply abandoning the rules of conscience I don't employ anymore to get what I already had and cannot lose no matter what. It's just part of the deal I've learn to recognize rather than something I have to invent or create to have it available on an as needed basis.

There is a lotta that. Most of it. The huge majority of abstract reckonings that got me what I thought I needed in the past that no longer make any sense to maintain. The remembering vision bestowed an experiential database of experience that goes back to the time of my original arrival on this specific planet, and all the creatures and entities I am has made itself into since. Big database. Billions of lifetimes as both this and that from which to draw upon. "Aye, and there's the rub."

I experienced the remembering vision forty years ago during the wrap-up of my first Saturn Return. It took thirty years for me to get my head wrapped around what really happened, and to realize it had happened to others who spent their lifetime writing about it as I have.

In the last decade or so since I realized that my quaint experience was a classical event that's pretty well known if you've had the experience yourself, but theres a ring-pass-me-not involved with recapitulating such an event from one's past that, in my case, got me over the hump with understand not only what happened, but why.

Then, it didn't really matter anymore. The implications are that nothing special need be done but to remember that I remembered, and then chop wood and haul water until due revelation moves things along. Writing is one fine way to chop wood. What I do to haul water is even easier.
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