Dr. Death - TLC 81

After eating Turkey with trimmings, Simon Says, a fat jovial American educator with an M.A. in Obscurity collecting centuries on his resume escaped Indonesian archipelagoes on short notice.  

He accepted a new job in the Middle Eats to pay for his emergency life support expenses while employed at a private Jakarta school.

Lucky returned home from his fare-thee-well dinner of grilled-fired fish, rice, veggies and giant prawns swimming in garlic to discover a medium size cock-a-roach scurrying toward dark safety.

One room smelled of Turkish delight, a sweet gooey mixture of nuts, berries and flakey pastry. Another room was resplendent with tropical bird songs and silk warbling blues riffs, improvisational cool cello bass lines and the sweet taste of a flute.

Behind locked doors sad, lonely, angry, and neglected spoiled crying Asian and Turkish humans rehearsed songs of alienation, loneliness and boredom.

Amnesic rooms dancing with autocratic sensations remembered how Simon perceived his decision to decline a doctor’s advice and proceeded with a dangerous medical exploratory option to check out the source of his internal distress.

“No anesthetic,” Simon told Doctor Death. This decision almost killed him in a microscopic moment inside Time, a valiant teacher, an educator, facilitator and an arrow of non-renewable resource. His decision cost him vast quantities of blood. He needed many transfusions from barbarians and strangers.

During exploratory surgery Simon felt a warm light bathing his skeleton. Understanding by Design.

Simon saw God. God said, “Later Simon. I will wait for you.”

 Simon was frayed fabric. A needle dripped volunteered slavery. Lying in his hospital bed Simon contemplated what is life.

Mental gymnastics: Why do simple medical challenges escalate into a life-threatening crisis? Rash misunderstanding of how and why my body said, give me pain killers and my monkey mind ego extinguished flashing rational emergency lights ignoring warning signals common sense and professional medical advice. 

Being a Super Hero had its risks and rewards.

The Language Company

be the nib. be the ink. be the paper.

Women hack and chop in dark dingy kitchens.

Fourteen Khmer men sit at tables talking decibels.

The one who talks loudest is the winner.

Some sit silent staring into their vast repertory of memories. They are survivors.

A drama tv sitcom with a hero, girl, quest for love, understanding, medicine, food, obstacles, rising action, climax and falling action accompanied by dancing music and shadows from well worn speakers play out.

See with soft eyes.

A ghost scribbles old cursive ink stories.

Be the ink. Be the paper. Be the nib.

We are Stardust - TLC 80

He shared a universal story with Grade 4. “Many tribes love to look back. Passion and grasping creates suffering. It's a genetic molecule of fear, healthy doubt, fantastic uncertainty, surprise and adventure. Monkey mind. No worries, no memories. A child’s innocent curiosity lives in the present.”

“Every little thing is in front of us,” said a genius kid.

“Yes,” Lucky said, “focus on your essential needs not your wants. Imaginary wants manifest desire. Attachment and grasping creates suffering. Suffering is an illusion. We are all passing through. Humans look back in their vivid reptilian imagination hoping to see a ghost memory, a figment of their imagination.

Is it safe?

“Change is scary. They look back to remember where they came from. They look back because they are afraid they will never see the village and people again. They use their disappearing energy to look behind wondering and wandering and milling around in a perpetual state of shock and distraction.

“Humans seek clues at their personal ground zero. They’ve evolved from distant galaxies. Java man evolved here 40,000 years ago. Accepting an evolutionary premise, their DNA star chart continues its genetic dance. We are stardust. Never trust an atom. They make up everything. The world is made of stories not atoms. Oh, and one more thing. Don’t let school interfere with your education.”

He lived in talking monkey zones. They ate rice, drank water and fucked. They washed one set of clothing and hung it on bamboo. They killed all the animals and burned down all the forests. They bred, worked and got slaughtered. Shamans brought rain. Tropical downpours gave humans free showers. 

Food was cheap. Let’s eat mantra. This had nothing to do with simian behavior. It had nothing to do with two women sitting in a dark warung food joint near a private school facing a tall cinder block wall. Chickens goats and cats prowled pecked and foraged in garbage. One woman sat in a deep meditation as her friend cleaned her scalp. They took turns exploring and inspecting. This genetic ritual was practiced in world zoos, jungles and rain forests.

Chattering storytellers. Musicians played ancient gamelan tunes. Heal people with music. Music is the fuel.

Idle Indonesian males after washing taxis studied accumulated grime under long yellow curling fingernails. Waiting for passengers they played chess in Banyan tree shade. Checkmate, said Death, You lose.

Drivers visited the warung chatting up girls, devouring spicy rice mixed with tofu, chicken, veggies, green chilies and deep-fried snacks.

One lucky explorer created a Brave New World.

         Culture is what you are.

         Nature is what you can be.

He invented new futures with cold, detached logical intention and compassion. He survived in an assessment-of-process paradigm inside an expanding data based star cluster.

The Language Company 

silence is loud

Matter and consciousness.

Mystery is all.

Create. Live w/o fear, shame or humiliation.

Sewing woman. Thread leads needle.

Courage.

Sewing family in the labyrinth. A singing fool sits down. Sat down. In the center of a labyrinth without a center. He sings. Women smile and laugh. After moments he is invisible.

He laughs one says same same Cambodia.

Laughter language speaks.

You may find yourself in another part of the world.

You may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife.

You may ask yourself, how did I get here?

What am I doing here?

How did I grow?

I love the chaos.

Kids recite text from a book at the top of their small powerful voices.

Don't ask them the meaning. Read and repeat.

They know the printed word/symbols only.

The rest is silence.

Silence is the loudest noise in the world.

Humor and curiosity

Wednesday is a health day: facial, ears cleaned, haircut and long luxurious sex after an oil massage. She is twenty, strong, cute, willing, ready and able. They've known each other three months. She doesn't make crazy demands.

The time to settle down will never come.

You are a prophet visionary.

East child: how did I grow?

West child: how did I get here?

Whisper teacher - I love everything that flows.

Humor and curiosity are the two most important components of intelligence.