Spiritus Mundi

Thorazine

Thorazine

Thorazine

Thorazine

Thorazine

That was my first death.

The reaction to the revolution comes too late

The swift and savvy win and relegate the good to chains

The nurses dose us up to placate our vituperative astonishment

We are tracking on the inner gyre:

In each human heart terror survives

The raven has gorged: the loftiest fear

All that they would disdain to think were true:

Hypocrisy and custom make their minds

The fanes of many a worship now outworn.

They dare not devise good for man’s estate,

And yet they know not that they do not dare.

--Yeats

The second coming is coming. And I’m not talking Biblically.

Each human mind is linked to the vast intelligence. We all share a collective unconscious.

Things fall apart.

The last conversation Kara and I had was weeks after the rubber room. We spoke politely on the phone and I played Here Comes the Sun for us to listen to.

Once the song finished, she said, “I love that you just did that with me.”

I forgave her, kind of, and told her it was my favorite song.

“Mine, too,” were her last words to me.

Things fall apart.

Things went up and down hill after that. Things are coming together now, finally.