its funny in a very sick way how things can turn out so awefully from such good intention. even minor cases. its bad on the psyche. i made time for myself tonight. after reading the requisite work i made a point of being able to think again. satisfied, i cut all the lights and lowered the televisions volume and made a spot for myself on the couch. i collected the cd player, put on the music i was (and still am) looking forward to and tried to relax. it was good for a while, wonderful even because for a short bit i responded the way i had hoped... feeling the music, thoughts cleansed to the point where mutinous ones (consciously attempting to ruin the moment) were rare. i really did it for a while but other things still stood in the way of my meditation. among the random other things lay the reason for the nights impending horror.

you see, as is well understood, when one sense is taken away, your other few are strengthened. while all this took place i was happily blind (unless the tv blinked ferverently) to enjoy the music more but instead of just my hearing being sharpened so was my touch. taste and smell i tactfully ignored. an acute sense of touch is a good thing if... say... you are in the business of colonoscopies but during musical meditation it tends to get in the way. it is cool to a certain extent when you can feel your heart beat through your entire body not because of intense workout but because each beat courses through the couch to reach every nerve exposed to it. this also works with whatever else might stir the air or ground, expressively, people walking. you dont realize until you are in this position that people dont just walk, they lumber. the way us fat americans move is seemingly the anti-grace that elephants and other large warm blooded animals long ago mastered. through the beautiful music i was supposed to be focusing on i could trace each step based on the couch and, somehow, through every cling and shake of the room's furniture which, obvious to me, maliciously hated whoever was doing the strolling. every squeak of the hardwood somehow made it through to my consciousness. another thing contributing to this little game is that i am a dreamer. always have been and hopefully always will be. easily sucked into daydreams and uncommonly weird nocturnal ones, i was sucked into a few here. and through this peaceful and ultimately content music i somehow come to three very violent strings of thought.

i am never sure why i come to think of what i do but it somehow never ceases to make things worse than they were. as i listened to a particularly uplifting and yet subversively maddening song i started thinking. these thoughts, much to my unconscious dismay, started to take over my visions of music and habit of fingering songs i know how to play. three of them, which i really dont feel like going into deeper because my mental state is a bit on the low side tonight, came to me. first string: a robber waits on my deck, slips in the door, slits my father's throat (he makes a gurgling sound and his face...), slips into the hall, similarly kills my mother, i see and awake from my meditation, somehow tear off the leg of the table next to me, bash him until he is dead and continue in a dazed shock until his head is nothing but pulp on the floor. the cops would find me sitting between them in a corner with the table leg crying to myself... second string: i wake from my meditation and hear my mother screaming from behind the couch, i jump up and see the man raping her so i jump on his back, grab his chin and head and break his neck. i can see myself in court trying to evade murder charges for saving my mother... breaking down. third string: i wake and hear my mother screaming from the kitchen where i see her struggling with the man, i grab three knives out of the block on the right and stab him in the back with one, he turns around and looks at me with this bewildered face then comes at me, i slash him, stab him, tear him apart (i can feel my muscles twitch through all of this, disturbing really) and he is finally dead. i cant take any of this and stare at a ceiling fan until the song is over and put it all away. i wish these things wouldnt happen anymore.