When I was but a wee laddie, knee-high to a grasshopper, I was put in an airtight bag; In the warm carbon-dioxide-rich darkness, my ears clearly perceived the disembodied voice explaining my predicament and impending death by suffocationand then, I alsofelt the floorboards vibrate and the door slam shut. I lay there, thinking ofpeople I knew that had suffocated, or lived with the fear of suffocation, either real or imagined: Real danger, asthma; however, my ancestral Poe[Peacock]of the Edgar Allen varietywas, I think safe to call, “imaginary”…
I’ve occasionally been claustrophobic since then, especially when entrapped in an underground space, much like a grave. Lately, I’ve been really attracted, strongly, to the idea and unfolding circumstances intersecting around the general image of a small home built with natural cob, from a foundation of stone built from the face of the mountain’s bone. I’m most heavily an earth and metal person, and I wonder…
What would Lao Tzuas keeper of a great library, and a curious if not well-read keeper of such a library, think of Feng Shui, an interest that ocassionally drives me insane. I know, I know… But I don’t know…
O. Cc. A sionally dyslexic and don’t notice/correct when hastening to publish.
It’s actually pretty awesome being an artist and having a little quirk like that.
The full skit is funnier, but perhaps less impactful in terms of getting the message across like the prior two-minute clip that headed this thread. But the true genius in this skit is the realization that it is the MIND that creates all the problems.
I can hear both of them.
It’s all in the BODY.
I was stuck, trapped in my mom’s birth canal: my memories get fuzzylol!
I got through it, with a little help from my friends.
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