The Piecemeal Man (abmann) wrote,
The Piecemeal Man

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Bones, Structure, and Conceit

I'm at a loss here. For two months I had a good thing going with this "Poetry Book" thing that I did. Now, with no verse spilling out of my exasperating gullet - what do I write about? Or, more appropriately as grammar is necessary, about what do I write? My life is fairly standard. Most aggregious complication is lack of a health insurance card and mounting Bronchitis problems. Have you any chronic diseases with which to contend? It's certainly not a good course of life. However, it is the lot I have chosen - not in the "fate" sense - through neglect.

I have always been curious when my bronchitis (I own this condition; therefore I hold the power) would get out of hand. It's not out of hand now... it's just making the precarious journey over my chest to the significantly-less-adapt-at-grasping nonexistant left hand I enjoy (by the way, for those of you that are new to the ABM experience I have no left hand below my elbow - I blame this for many spelling errors, typing with one hand you see). I do enjoy this situation thoroughly as evinced in a comment lost to the byte-waves in either madolan's or graye's journal. If either of you find what I lovingly (read maniacally) call the "Boogey Man" comment please inform me. Thy rewards shall be handsome - though not so much as me.

The previous paragraph brought up two things I wish to discuss. When I say discuss I mean force upon you in the most characteristic baseness that only I can muster. 0) revelations about my skeletal structure. 10) deification.

1. I spent a few hours today strolling about the Monona Terrace taking pictures of some peculiar colored flowers, all the time walking back to sun in the hopesof cutting down on the painful squinting - which, subsequently did little to prevent the logical headachey state that follows gorgeous days like today. I noticed that my shadow was oddly shaped. My left should was higher by about and inch and half. That's pretty significant in my book. I immediately shut out all exterior thought and concentrated on what Howard Gardner refers to as Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence. It is, on a distilled level, awareness of one's body and the ability to manipulate it skillfully (gracefully). Insofar as that relates, I felt what my body was going in it's reaxled state and compared to a forced planar state in my shoulders. And indeed, naturally my left "arm" sits higher than my right. I assume it's due to that pesky 2 pounds that would come from an otherwise intact arm. I started visualizing what that's going to do to my skeleton as I age. I'm going to become a boogey man of some sort, which I shall enjoy muchly with a large axe of some sort.

2. In reference to deification - or in my case "deitation" for poetic purposes - I think that went to my head. I feel I have become more confident in/with myself. Those two prepositions are very distinct, mind you. Confidence in myself means that I believe I am a capable, powerful person in that order; this also includes the latter feeding the former in dynamic and beneficial way but is extrinsic in application. That is it is me, working for myself to benefit externally, like through doing harder jobs better/more efficiently.

Confident with myself is just the opposite, or reversed. It is me feeling powerful with capability feeding it in an intrinsic cycle. It is me feeeling powerful over situations/people that I use to benefit myself internally. It's like causing guilt trips to get my way because I understand how someone else reacts to a situation - getting things just for me.

At different times a different aspect plays out and is brought out. I'm not pleased with the second situation described above... but I'm not taking active steps to fix it. It helps with the style of poetry I have (I don't want to say "developed" because that has nuances of hardship in the memeology) evolved. It's what makes me think i can complete and get a hard-on over pieces like Infonography. You think I'm joking... well I am, partially. It get a very carnal satisfaction from that poem - very base.

Regardless. I fear that that side of my recent character evolution will become more prominent and I will become conceited in the wrong awys (yes, there are right ways). The right way characterized in a quote from a friend of mine, "I've decided to join your group because it could benefit from my beauty." It's conceited in that playful way that is extrinsic in its applications, and very few people would be able to take it at face value. This is the correct conceit that enslaves the second sort and draws strength from it.

That's what I need to happen and I'm not sure how to make it a conscious process.

Well, I've done it again. I've structurally analyzed my life. I guess my english and psychology degree makes for interesting reading. Right? Did any one actually finish this monster?

I feel I should limit my entry size. But you know what? I like these long entries so damn much. I guess you'll have to learn to enjoy reading them.

I'm too good at this
to do it any other way.


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