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My entire world revolves around my GI tract now. Granted, my mouth and my teeth are at the beginning of it, and my rectum is at the end of it, but it's pretty much why everything else exists. My personal understanding of what the term "the world snake" means is growing in leaps and bounds.
The only reason I am has arms and legs and a head is to serve this thirty foot long snake. I am is it's servant. It's not very happy with me as of late, and just like you'd figure a snake might act or react to it's own displeasure, lately, it's been hell to pay. I am has been doing a lousy job of pleasing it.
Getting a bad tooth yanked rudely out of the head of the snake under heavy, thudding sedation, followed by swallowing capsules of very powerful antibiotics every (approximately, I am is not perfect) eight hours, has been a stultifying ordeal. This stogy, mind-boggling, artificially induced ritual is not to die for, and undergoing it might be mo' bettah than the Death it supposedly delayed, but it's probably the only-est way I am can continue to live without the constant thought of murdering itself to end it all.
Theoretically, I am is the lord my god. The entire purpose of life is for It to be with Me as One entity. At-one-ment. If that actually happens, occasionally or ever, it's very comforting. I am is not the Comforter. The Comforter is not me, but when I-am-is abandons it's abstract ideas of itself, it prepares a place for the external Comforter to conjoin with what I am is or can be. Momentarily, gloriously, and then, without fail, school is out, and the band plays on.
I'm just wasting time. Drinking a pretty good cup of coffee, typing unrepentant bullshit, and waiting for the time to come when, hopefully, my meaningful trip to the bathroom this morning takes my blues away. I knew from prior experience that the antibiotics would probably cause me to be constipated, and I was not disappointed.
It could be worse. I started taking the antibiotics last Wednesday, and had to satisfy myself with minimum success, as it were, that required lots of effort, but with no satisfaction. This morning changed all that, and that's why I'm sitting here at my computer and waiting. I'm waiting to see if I can possibly feel better, physically, so that my joie de vivre will return.
The socket or hole in my jawbone where the tooth was extracted announced it's presence with discomfort, and some dull pain when I first woke up this morning. It's hard to imagine that it wouldn't be an angry spot in my body.
The tooth was twisted and yanked and forced out of the place it had occupied for most of my body's life. It was taken out by violence, and I didn't expect it to heal without aggravation. What I'm feeling could be a "dry socket", but I've never had that happen before, so I don't know. Now that I've been up a while. it seems better. I don't want no more trouble with this tooth thing.
I just got up and closed the outside door that faces the East to keep the Sun's heat out of this room as long as possible. It's gonna be another scorcher. The early morning will be the most comfortable time of the day for months. I checked the weather gadget on my computer that gives the highs and lows for the coming seven days. Mid-nineties for the foreseeable future. This does not spell comfort, but it is the season for hot temperatures.
It's difficult to argue that global warming is not a fact that Earth has to deal with. The weatherman unkindly pointed out that last year had more consistent days with the temperature reaching over 90° (32.22° C) than any other time in recorded history. 88 days in a row. Maybe hell IS hot.
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