Monday, April 10, 2006

A Seeing-Eye Dog for a Living Paradox.

My starring role in yesterday's piece of break-down theatre reminded me that I was diagnosed bipolar personality disorder for good reason. It's not just that I can swing from deep, defeatist depression to manic flights of creative ecstacy, some times those high flights can manifest as uncontrollable rage, where I flip and run amok like a Dalek screaming "destroy, destroy, destroy!" Bipolar also hints at the conundrum of my inherent paradoxical nature, for I am a self-confessed demonic angel, an anarcho-capitalist, a mystic realist, a misanthropic humanist, a dystopian Utopianist, an agnostic gnostic in that I'm on a life long quest to see the luminous light shining from the void around me and not only all the time get lost in my own darkness.

Without religion or a god, I'm a neo-pagan making sacred the universe, surviving techno-machine driven times, living only for fun and knowledge, dancing ecstatically at one with nature while thriving like an Elloi in the innards of a big city, on the run from the Morlocks. A sentient fuckwit, I cry out in the wilderness, lost on purpose, not wanting to be found, hoping to be guided along the path suitable to my contrary nature, by following the signs I come across, books, people, movies, music.

Last night I vibed a prayer to the multi-verse to send me an animal guide as I entered the dark cave of sleep for I need radical assistance in my middle-aged melt-down confusion. Since Teddy the black cat's death I've felt abandoned by the animal world, maybe ready for a new dream body-guard to take over, and a new path to set out on, or at least get inspired by. After some astral adventures I was dream-recuperating in some safe alcove and felt a creature crawl up and rest it's body alongside me. I knew it was a dog and stroked his warm body but felt distrust, maybe it was a huge rat, come to infect me? He took my hand in his muzzle and firmly bit down into it, without breaking the skin, as loving pets do, to let me know he really was present, he really had arrived to be my new guide. His presence was extremely vivid, as real as waking reality, and he continued to gently bite me to get me to believe in him.

I was so amazed I wrenched myself from sleep, skin all goose-bumped, annoyed I'd felt the usual fear and mistrust of the animal world but also elated that at last, after many weeks attempt, I'd called a new spirit guide to my side to help me in my lost ramblings. Dogs are the foremost guardians of the gate into the Underworld and thus make perfect seeing-eye guides for the rational blind-man, and so hopefully my new friend will help pacify my existential rages and balance my bi-polar swings. I hope I'm not being airy fairy, it's all in the Mind.