senses gja They are right you know. Aside from all the chemical addiction it’s the five senses that gets to those that fall prey. It is the bait in the trap of all five of those senses. Touch it. Dig that soft packet out of your pocket. Pop one up and caress its tailor made length. Rolled and firm. Light it, you see the flame first; and the dark orange glow on the tip; the first tendril of un-sucked smoke. You hear the crackle too. If it is quiet you can hear them - those small sounds – popping just above your own intake; the first burn of dried out curls. Taste it, fine or filth. Imagine, for a moment, the one you are kissing. The smell too: now and later. On hands, clothes, skin and sheets. But they never mention the common one. That oh so common one: the common sense. I am not a stupid man. I am not without that common sense. More still, at times I have had breath to burn with abandon. Go on check. 1988. State 800m. Silver medal. 1:53.53. Surprised? So why then – why seek that bait? Why just let the five senses have their way. What about the common one? Go on, I dare you. 101018 ... kerry i’m at visionworks and the tech won’t stop calling me “dear” though i just overheard him tell another customer he graduated from college last year. i prop my chin on a little platform and look into the scope and see a quaint white house with a red roof at the end of a flat green field. it’s blurry, blurrier, then not. he says “look this way dear,” then “look that way dear,” then shoots a puff of air into one eye--oh no--and then the other. WHOOSHHH and i can’t hear what he’s saying exactly but i can see his mouth moving. context is helpful in situations like this. the tech comments (i think) on the trendiness of my frames, i smile politely, unsure if he is mocking or admiring them, nodding but not commit-tally (what if i wind up in some optometric version of the seinfeld puffy shirt fiasco??) and i slip a pill as discreetly as i can into my mouth under my too-big mask. i don’t know and can’t see if he notices. i don’t care, i’m past that. he gives me back my frames, i accept them with a murmur of thanks and hands_like_mittens, and i follow his gesture for me to sit in a chair in the hall, presumably to wait for the doctor. such relief when dear tech is finally gone and i am able to sit worried and frightened alone instead of frightened in front of a dear stranger. i’m gripping the arm rests, trying to keep myself grounded here, try to evaluate the situation objectively, which is impossible now because i cannot be anything but SUBjective and whoa i may be reverting to some primitive version of me. (at a park i once saw a dog wearing a handwritten sign that said DO NOT PET ME I DON’T LIKE IT AND I MAY BITE YOU. i want something similar for situations like this. DO NOT TALK TO ME DO NOT BE ALARMED I AM NOT ALWAYS IN CONTROL AND I MAY OR MAY NOT OWN UP TO MY ACTIONS. but a sign like that would be too big.) grounding, i talk about it with em all the time, especially those who have panic attacks or tend to dissociate… “try this, see if it will help bring you back to earth,” and shit now i have to take_my_own_advice: my name is kerry. i am 34 years old. i am at an eye exam. at visionworks. in PA. in the united states. it is wednesday. no, it’s tuesday. about 5:30 PM. today is august 10, which makes it maybe almost close to the end of summer. the year is 2021. these are my feet, flat on the ground. these are my knees, my whole hands over them. these hands look familiar… these are my hands. same hands as usual. take a deep breath through my nose, hold it, sigh it out through my mouth i still feel like i have moths in my ears when i run my hand over my thigh it feels different and makes a sound i don’t recognize i wiggle my fingers in front of my eyes and only see, don’t feel a soap bubble of sound rises in my right ear, then falls and pops in my left and from the pop also drains out other sounds like whisshhhhhing and whirrrrring and tip-tip-tipping and tap-tap-tapppppp-tap-tapping and a cat purring and a witch cackling and the heavy metal groan of a giant bridge collapsing and gregorian monks chanting. now it’s just bubbles, so many, fizzing. i’m pure carbonation. i text alex: “are you in the waiting room? please come hang out, i’m fine but will be finer with you there” he is still in ikea across the parking lot but somehow, maybe he’s a superhero because no one ever has cell service in ikea, somehow he gets my text and says “i’m there as soon as i escape this maze” and then soon after that “i’m here” and when i’m done i come out into the sales floor he opens his arms and says, “you made it!” like i just finished a race which is how i feel, like i finished by the skin of my teeth or the skin of my feet or the skin of my membrane? and i’m laughing but my laughter is so tired. i want to be scooped up and swaddled but i’d have to rewind a few decades for that, and wait several more for equal quality coddling. “i was planning on getting you something from chick-fil-a,” he says. fast food is the last thing i want right now but Giving is his love language: comfort food which may or may not come from a drive-thru especially if there is any associated sentimentality, random bouquets of flowers, a new window AC unit. “well what are you going to eat?” he is more concerned than i am. i just want to go home, hold the dog, be still and stare at the ceiling. so that’s what we do. he brings me leftover ravioli he reheated using a makeshift double-boiler--this man who can’t even thread a needle to replace a shirt button--and tells me very kindly but firmly to “eat this, be quiet, and stay put.” 210810 ... unhinged 'you go deep' what is it exactly that does the sensing and what exactly is it sensing? realizing the level of narrative i place over everything i experience was pivotal for me. this idea of luminous being and pure perception makes tibetan buddhism unique among other buddhisms. the university trungpa rinpoche opened in boulder has degrees in psychology based on the idea of primordial ground and basic_goodness i spontaneously smile more often since i realized the inherent miracle of embodiment 210810 what's it to you? who go blather from