Speaking of mediocrity, you should see the inside of my head.
Once, it held outrageous thoughts; thoughts too chatty to keep inside. Ideas that would require gargantuan strength of will to carry out- or at least the will to get up off the couch.
My poor head now is empty in comparison. Instead of schemes and plans and grandiose notions, there are only wisps of thoughts, snippets of voices, viral videos and scraps of knowledge that just makes me tired and regretful.
It's the regret I try to avoid, but denying those thoughts just brings resentment and bitterness. Those thoughts must be squelched before wiggling their way into my life in the form of something unspeakable.
The pharmaceutical industry makes a fortune from people like me-people who need a bit of chemical assistance to forget the past, wipe out the present and prevent any glimpse of the future. Better to be numb than to face what's in the mind. Ain't none of it pretty.
And the mind is last frontier to be primed for marketing. We have been svengali'd into buying everything else under the sun, adorned our homes, our streets, our children, our own bodies with products we have been convinced we can't live without. Why not fork over some of our hard earned cash for "mind products"?
The field of psychology discovered many centuries ago that our behavior may be the result of other people. Upon that premise was the mental health industry based. What mommy or daddy or uncle elvin did to us must be examined in many expensive 50 minute sessions so we can shrug off the guilt of our own poor decisions. And what a relief, huh? At least we don't have to be accountable for wrong we done or the right we didn't done.
I, for instance, blame my entire inferiority complex on my Uncle Chester. I loved my Uncle Chester dearly but I spent several years in the company of his fabulous but bitter ex wife who told me he didn't love US anymore, that WE weren't good enough for him anymore. I was too young to understand that she was trying to share the shame so I thought she spoke the truth. Also, I learned some really awesome curse words from her which made me very popular out in the school yard of St. Nick's.
Fast forwarding a few (decades) years, it has now been determined that we create our own problems with our own minds. Hello? But the good news is you can still spend a whole bunch of money trying to work it out! One thing that hasn't changed, you'll be glad to know, is that whether its Grandpappy Elmer's hand up your skirt or your own obsessive thoughts about the morning traffic causing the screw up of your life there are still people willing to exploit you for the few dollars you have to give.
And some of those people are actually dead folks speaking through unsuspecting live folks who then get to copyright these possessive spirits so you can't channel them also. Apparently, reanimated dead folks mate for life with whatever head they've gotten into first.
I am going to take a good hard look at all these head case doctors, be they adorned with diplomas, channelers of spirits or just plain full of crap, because life is too short not be confused.
