Unification.

Like a beast with his horns,

I have torn everyone

who reached out for me.

but I swear by this song

by this song,

and by all that i have done wrong,

i will make it all up to thee.

Thanks Leonard.

And just as Leonard Cohen

struts past my front door.

seemingly understanding

the impressive rhythms of

springtime symmetry,

the day takes a poetic

turn.

So I beat this disease, what's the

next step, I overheard, while

listening intently to the bad connection.

wires crossed, message in a bottle.

Pick a fancy, make it a dress rehearsal.

I heard myself hesitating order to

the crick crackle of modern technology.

The answer was tickling an announcement,

musing through misinterpretation.

Harness that energy.

Winning at anything is a conquered mountain.

The harder the training, the more determined

the effort, the richer the reward.
I once was witness to a marathon.

I saw men and women running what looked

to me, an impossible race. What are they

running from I mused, catching glimpses

of determined legs seemingly detached

from the rest of their body.

What are they running from indeed.

I find after coming out of a battle with Crohns,

I'm filled with a unbridled determination.

The knowledge that I'm in control of my body,

that I have solved the problem of "internal bad

wiring", simply by figuring out what caused the

flare-up in the first place.

It get's me thinking

about how I can apply this knowledge to

dreams and the working world. I don't know

how many times I've heard, usually in intercourse

with money, "well that's the world we live in".

Insinuating that my dreams are separate from

the everyday comings and goings of money passing

hands. Fighting Crohns has empowered me, and

taught me that I'm in control of my life. How

nobody but I, will hold me back, or push me through

the dreams that feed me energy through the hours

of two thirty through four in the AM.

Crohns has taught me that I'm responsible for my

health. That nobody, not even the greatest doctor

in the world can know my body better then I.

I'm reminded of a teacher who points

her crooked index in my direction, threatening

a future digging ditches unless I accept reading

as a way of life, "No matter what you do, You'll

always need to read!". Thanks Mrs. Steele.

Teachers always seem to neglect to eleborate

on the lessons they continually bark at you. That

by learning to love reading it'll make it easier

to study in preparation for interviews, business

deals, debate.

Whether it's negotiating a price for

a used car. Or swallowing whole what information

your doctor decides to peddle out to you.
If you've not studied, or read everything you can

about the subject at hand. Your either going to get swindled

by a greasy gutted glutton, or led astray by an

absent minded medition (doctor). Not to say all doc's are

bad, as I'm batting about fifty-fifty with medical

practitioners. What I'm saying is Fifty-fifty aren't

very good odds, especially if your a betting man or women.

Maybe it's because in our minds, us the regular Joe's and Jessie's,

doctors are on another astral plane. They sit atop a cloud, akin

with Gods, and Goddess's, they deal out life and death like a

frustrated kid perched over an ant hill.

People have this idea that Doctors are above them.
I used to. Until I watched a doctor in Melbourne who "googled"

my symptoms. I laughed, more like, squealed out giggles,

as this realization took hold. I wondered on the walk home,

who he copied his homework from. Was he some rich chinese kid

whose dad bought his degree. Can someone really take a bribe

for something like a medical licence? Do Corporations own Congress?

I also realized that doctors all have beds in their offices. I thought

being a doctor would be a good occupation to have if I felt

for an afternoon siesta.
Anyone can be a doctor folks. But not everyone can become

a good one.

"How am I to tell the dark side from the bad". says Luke.

"when your calm at peace, studying." says the grenouille with the Kermit like voice.

Out of all that you've learned from your illness. What's

the most important lesson you've learned?

Patience.

If you pay attention to intelligent people. You'll realize

they've a certain calmness about them. Sort of like

a twenty-something with a trust-fund.

They don't get frustrated because they take the time

to understand the situation. Someone whose angry is

only angry because they lack the understanding of

that which frustrates them.

Instead of taking a few minutes. Breathing back

some fresh air, a wonderful wondering while.

Thinking to determine what the lesson to be learned is. Rather then

hammering their chest, or whining a sophomore simile,

where the lesson is lost, and no growth was gained.

Imagine an ultimate fighter face to face with string theory.

A simple image that demonstrates how fast one can fall

into the deep abyss of peonic principles.

Take the time to understand is what I'm trying to say.
Humans have developed consciousness for a reason.

It's what makes being alive so wonderful, figuring things out.

I visualize my body like a circuit board. Each sickness simply

put, bad wiring.
I see myself outside my body, the system administrator.

Thinking, desperately at times, problem solving.

When I need help with a problem, I seek out those who

hold the answers, getting many opinions, and through

logic, utilizing the scientific process, coming to a conclusion.

I met this dude in Melbourne, we're in Melbourne today.

Who subscribed to this magazine whose sole purpose was

to keep the reader informed. Upon subscription they

sent you a mini reader about the history of the world, the

french revolution. Political readers, explaining the origins,

of anarchism, bolshevism, communism, socialism, democracy.

(* I wonder how many people in america who chastize Obama

as a socialist, even know what the #*#& a socialist is.

Not very many, my intuition boasts*)

I asked him "why the hell are you reading that stuff bud."

"So as not to get my information from some schmuck who

get's his knowledge written on the toilet walls."

" Huhg", I exhaled, letting him know I understood.

Letting him know I knew what was going on.

"Huhg" a lapse in time, a triggered treasure.

Huhg.

...gatsby~