My metaphorical whirled

I understand much better the whirled I now live in.  The mistakes I have made – in particular over the last eighteen months – demonstrate not that I am deluded but that I am metaphorical.  Simile and comparison and creativity and multiplicity and parallel ideas and concepts and patterns … all these things and more rule, inform, infuse and empower the being I always have been.

I don’t think I ever have been mad.  Distressed, certainly, but insanely ill … well, never.  And the reason I say this is for the reasons I have given above.  I saw the whirled around me quite connected before the Internet ever did come along.  My whirled was an Internet and web in 2002 and 2003, and the powerful put me away for the things I thought: not because I thought wrong; not even – perhaps I should now be generous enough to admit – because they were intrinsically cruel; but certainly, I now am convinced, because the frame they chose to use in order to better perceive my being was quite the most inaccurate frame they ever could have used.

My challenge now, of course, is how to live with this reality of mine.  The last thirty years have been a sexual wasteland for me, and yet even as we accept the close relationship between sexual expressiveness and the creative urge, I have managed to invent more than my fair share of art – at the very least craft.

Just imagine what I might be capable of in the future, if life was fully mine to enjoy.

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