Chapter one - The Mind Field
While others might characterize me as a lazy, no-good, or a bum, I prefer to think of myself as a thinker, a ponderer of life's mysteries, and an idea man. Unfortunately, I have as of late come across a bit of a block when it comes to bringing these ideas out into the real world. Some might say this block has been there all my life but I say to those harsh critics - all my life so far.
I have today decided to do something about this block. I am going to in - inside that is - to mine brain, to find out exactly what is causing this block. I know for some such as myself this might be a rash action but I feel that I am not just a thinker - I am a man of action and this situation calls for ACTION. I have thought about how I should go about this action for some time - a few months - and I have decided to simply shut down my external senses (sight, hearing, touch) and intend to go where no sane person would dare go, my brain.
I close my eyes, put headphones on, and sat calmly in my lazy-boy. I am ready to begin. Almost immediately, I find myself in a scene not unlike a Thomas Kinkade painting. There is a small cottage with a beautiful garden surrounded by a quaint fence of wood and stone. The colors all around me are brilliant. There is a gentle looking woman standing at the gate.
"Excuse me, MS." I ask, "Is this the entrance to my brain ?" A sad look comes over her face.
"Oh my poor dear boy," she says while looking down and shaking her head from side to side, "Why would ye be wanting to go there." Her voice seems to have an Irish accent. "A fine lad like yourself should be here in the hearth."
"You mean, this is the heart."
"That be what I joost said." Her accent seemed to be getting thicker.
"Well, I think I need to go to the brain. Do you know where it is?"
"Fine, refuse my hospitality, then go asking for favors, oh God forgive my soul for telling ye but I will. Ye go toward the the dark tower, take a right at the eye candy fields, cross the dread straight and narrow, keep going no matter what ye see there - I'm warning ye - ford across the creek of pissed-on-dreams, (ye may want to wash yourself after that), climb the hill of beans, and look for the most run down squabble God ever created and that be it." She turned and walked toward the cottage. "God have mercy on your fat and lazy soul."
I thought about what she had said and I came to one conclusion : I was not fat, just a bit past my prime.
(more coming soon)
