Eat Your Green Part 2

(Ass-Shit refocused) One can go around and around, but we all know what has been carefully avoided.  Let me describe it to you:  it seems tired and grumpy.  It is leaning to the (audience) right.  It is weighted down by anxiety and not-yet discussed problems.  It needs to be nursed.

Introduce the Nurse.

Why don’t you rest here on the pool chair while I go grab you some warm milk, says the nurse.  After a short while she comes back from the kitchen and says, look child, there is a reason for your existence.  Whenever there is a grandiose narcissistic Man-Child, there is usual a weak, frail inner Child-Sprout.  In order to supplement the imaginary exterior, the Child-Sprout must learn how to be strong on its own.  Now, stop crying and try to remember what went wrong.

Okay.  Some years after struggling and troublesome with eating greenstuffs, I was involved with this collegiate sphere.  For those of you who don’t know, its just bunch of buildings and people with books in their arms walking really fast and eat this thing called pizza which is really just a flat dough which spread out from a center point with hams and cheese on top.  I was sucking onto a few ideas and bought a sweater with text embroided, so I felt like I had shit-to-share. Entitlement.  Confidence.  Know-it-all.  I was waving around my “Capitalism is Bad and Art is the Supreme Way of Life” flag.  Yes, a lot of those didactic sounding sentences stored up in my half-assed American ideology.  Slurp slurp.  I was down with the institution of learning because I didn’t have a clue what it was feeding me.  For whatever reason I began to be more self-aware; the more I questioned the more I realized whatever is feeding me it is also holding me hostage.  So I decided to leave. Cut the umbilical to the city where I grew up, packed up my duffle bag, printed out my electronic ticket then I was in a farawayland.  Slurp slurrrp.  When I got there I was alone, but never lonely.  I was with melancholy.  I had to wake up next to myself everyday.  Unwanting to go down the land of pure dread, I had to be the one cheering myself on.  Clapping, blowing balloons, organizing BBQ and other types of parties.  But you know how it goes, it became exhausted.  When Man-Child wanted to go all boatshipyachting, I had doubts.  It was lunacy!  To a yacht?  One with a pool?!  He has to be delusional!  But since my name is Child-Sprout, how can I not be supportive.  It is not my place to be cynical, right? Slurp slurp.

Nurse wiped his mouth carefully.  Good boy, c’mon, keep talking. 
I wanted to be a good inner neighbor you know.  But he is such an idiot sometimes it become really hard on me.  Anyway, enough bitching.  Slurp slurrrrp.  Since I was his only audience, I have to play along, even though sometimes he asks me to do stuff I don’t feel comfort about…

All the sudden Man-Child walks over and devours Child-Sprout in a few gulps. 

Ewww, the Nurse comments, how could you?  He was telling me something that’s very important!  Besides, that’s narcissistic cannibalism!
He was getting fat.  Man you are hot, says Man-Child while wiping his mouth with his sleeves, wanna-make-out.
Good.  It wasn’t a question.
Woo, you are manly.  I like that.

That’s real love right there. Yes, embarrassingly, boatshipyacht is a like a loveboat.  But it is like nothing you have ever seen.  Sure, one can make many references to famous nautical vessels in past literature and history, but don’t say convicted criminal…don’t say Australia… don’t say Noah…don't say Argo...don’t say sinking of 1912…but say “is what”!  Say it loud and say it proud.  That is a good starting point to arouse many voices within oneself: the disfranchised, the immature, the power-hungry, the undecided, the in-between, the swimmer in the dark, the one who points, and the one who hugs (like a blanket).  Let them come out, provide some building material, some hammers and scissors, stencils and eye goggles, tapes and house paint, few selection of door knobs and light fixtures, lunch break and hot shower, who knows what kind of dwelling they can build.  Dwelling for the mind, that is.