a thought about psychology and human process in progress, and on recovering from what seems like an impossible, complex traumatic injury.

part of a bigger thing being written,

but part of a thing that applies to other things- read: your life too, in some way.

This is a thought fragment- where-in I was writing part of my book , about my life- and happened upon an important common thread.

herein is the paste, if you can't see it you're not meant to read it yet,

:D yessir. i am literally just pondering the bio-chemistry of it, to confirm what i am seeing is what i am seeing.

because (for the last 14 years) i have had a sinus infection draining into my stomach holding my throat open.

(due to a car accident, getting jumped by four people, having to move an apartment entirely by myself and packing a 40 ft uhaul then driving it 500 miles and unpacking it all by myself.

lol so i basically got walking pneumonia from the complications from the rib injuries from the accident, and then re injured myself while moving, and yeah man.

never do that but i dont think this is a worry for you. lol

i literally feel healthier in the past 3 – 4 months day to day than I have felt day to day in the past 12 years prior. That is incredible progress, and literally is enough to make me cry daily, and I am blown away. I have worked day in and day out for nearly 12 years except days where I knew it would kill me to continue and my body needed a break.

#this has been hard won.

im good now, and my blood pressure has dropped to levels i dont even remember being able to feel, experience, or recall, i have been coughing out gently a brown putty that looks like silicon caulk, and feeling so goddamn relieved each time its like i just climaxed,

and drinking plenty of fluid, and getting plenty of rest.

i had no idea i was this sick for so long, and i am so beyond fucking blessed and fucking grateful to the spirit of not only the cannabis plant, but everything conspiring since 2005 to keep me alive, including my interminable will.

life is fucking crazy sometimes.

we have to keep going.

there are two kinds of people on this earth-

those who give up, and those who push beyond their limitations and mortal fear of death – to find new heights of creativity , to solve what we feared were our unsolvable dillemmas.

it is this character building, this experience, of having to do it yourself, of really having to get in there and shit- that for me makes the difference between someone who understands and can perhaps some day help someone else, and someone who is perhaps either not getting it yet, or using something like money, or worse, other people as a tool to accomplish the need their shortcoming creates, and has not been learnt by the person yet.

this is a thought in progress, like most of the things i am writing, but it is complete enough, and important enough, that i feel comfortable sharing this fragment with you.

its not done yet, please dont ask me about this- just wait for the finished thing, unless you have something to add.

one thing is for certain

i wake up happy now, for the first time (” “) in 12 years, daily now, instead of laying there for an hour or so in sheer amazement that I did not perish and die in the night.

and i cannot tell you how happy that makes me.

— a happy spirit