Tag Archives: limbo

Limbo [aka growing up sucks]

You see, Limbo is a synthetic concept. That is, it is man-made.

Though, what concept isn’t man-made?

Not the point, I suppose.

The point? Limbo’s creation (as a word as well as a concept) seems like the product of pure desperation. It seems to have been created by someone that needed so badly to control time.

But, you see, though one may ‘feel in limbo’… in this non-place and non-time where no movement occurs… Time will always truck on… regardless of where one has decided that they are. One may have decided that certain non-action and the consequential non-movement (in the most denial-based naive of cases) places them in limbo.

but the thing is… though, as a psychological construct used to soothe the fear of one’s place in time, limbo works fantastically… this is all it is good for. Limbo cannot exist in other capacities because time and space are always constant in acceleration. And it is as much as what one doesn’t do as much as what one does. Time and space will always win.

You can’t stop it; you can’t control it. And you can’t blame anything on time and/or space. The only thing you can do is make a choice… any fuckin’ choice.

Because by not making a choice, you’ve made your choice. And doing that and ‘choosing’ to be in Limbo is for the coward. Or, more mildly, the timid and fearful.

Yes, now, we sound like Renton from “Trainspotting”. Choose life… or whatever.

This is not that.

No grand political statements here.

I’ve just realized. …this whole thing. This whole:

23rd Street Chronicles: A Year and a Half in Limbo After a Decade Under the Influence“…

…well, it’s been well beyond a year and a half, at this point. And I tell myself that I am still in limbo. Limbo is a word that bounces about my vernacular way too often. And it’s not that I’m not in limbo. And it’s not also that I haven’t changed (drug-wise as well as generally evolutionarily-so)… but I could speed this shit up.

Your author here, is erroneously, trying just a bit to control time.

Stupid bitch.

And I’ve become something that I’ve never been. And reverberating in my head constantly is that quote from that movie, “the saddest thing in life is wasted talent”. And it occurs to me that as more time passes, the more sad it becomes.

Anyway, we are on this sound bite kick, so:

growing up does suck… but as much as one tries to stall, is still unavoidable.

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Three and a Half Years Out…

I thought that it’d be appropriate to come semi-circle, if you will and write a bit about what this whole thing… this whole like, 23rd Street Chronicles… this whole, okay… Blooooog or something… started as in the first place.

Three and a half years out… I feel that this is a safe landmark of sorts.

I’ve always been a proponent of cognitive behavioural-ish approaches to things. Aaron Beck, ‘fake it ’til you make it*’, ‘‘just do it’, etc. And for the most part (including all of the destructive drug usage) these are the tenants that have, for me, been most effective in my blind-eyed, flailing-armed experience of the world.

In so saying, I discontinued a behaviour. I stopped using meth.

…this. last. time, anyway.

As an action, I ceased this behavior. I discontinued an habitual action in the same manner that I had ever begun one. …multiple times and ceased multiple times in various colours in spades.

See, it’s all the same. It’s all behaviour. If you do, if you don’t. That’s it.

Mouse, maze, cheese. Flowers for Algernon.

I’m not saying injecting street drugs is the same as just not injecting street drugs. I’m not saying that I am the same as you because I do the same things as you nor am I the same as you because it doesn’t matter what we do at all.

This is nihilism.

But behaviour is behaviour. And we should recognize the potential in which it can be abused. Yes, in a certain sense it is ‘better’ that I’m not injecting street speed into my veins. …I guess…

But this secession is exactly the thing that has placed me in this limbo for this entire time. Things obviously change, once one changes behavior (especially behavior as extreme as this). Furthermore, increasing time in itself, does alter experience.

But alteration or secession of behaviour alone does not a ‘cure’ make. It fucks you all-the-more. Yes, alot of extraneousness is stripped away creating something more clear. …like a tumble-weeded out Western perhaps.

But, i guess, this whole thing… I’m here to tell you… limbo is limbo for a reason. No one is supposed to stay here. I discontinued the behaviour… but I’m still here.

And I know… as I’ve known all along, I suppose… that something is still awry.

None of this is really about drugs…

I’m sleepy. Shout out to the J-man: sleepy-dance.

Don’t even think about it.

…not done. NOT even.

NOT EVEN FUCKIN’ CLOSE.
…if you’ve read any of this ghey-ass blog, any of it.. one post… you can do me the favor of staying with me here, for this one.
because sometimes, it’s important.

And, so, one again: To be Continued…

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Free Samples

08.02.2010…
The black chick in the green shirt stands just outside Planet Smoothie in Penn Station. She holds a brown-ish tray of tiny tiny plastic cups filled with something salmon-colored and fruity and pseudo healthy. She yells ‘free samples’ at jagged intervals with all the desperation (semi-aggressive, at that) that a chick that works in a planet smoothie in penn station can. This is New York, afterall. The internal desperation painted on the faces and glowing in the action of its denizens. Penn Station being an in-between place… Limbo or purgatory. I neither loathe nor love the place. It is just a relative constant recurring in equally jagged intervals of my existence.

WordPress for BlackBerry.

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