but what springs from my mindspring is... just that. it's a line from an email a friend wrote me. and i woke up 8 minutes ago, back at 3:25am with it running through my head. what springs from my mindspring what springs from my mindspring... i like the turn of phrase.

i have been thinking about it for a couple days because i'm not sure what kind of spring he was thinking of. and i haven't asked because then i would know, and it's more fun to play with it instead (for the moment). what springs from my mindspring, what springs from my mindspring...

See, the first thing that sprang to mind when he sprung the mindspring on me was a metal coil kind of spring. Exploding from the head like a Jack-in-the-box Athena.

Later i thought of those stupid looking shoes that have a big exposed spring coil attached to the heal, you know, put a spring in your step. I don't think that is their actual advertising slogan but it should be. That was a very satisfactory thought, as Athena was now able to bounce forth in springy sneakers.

When I woke up just now it was a teeny little spring. The kind that you feel compelled to press together when you autopsy a pen, and that can ZING quite a distance when it pops out of your fingers. It is probably the image i got because i have been wound too tight like a spring and the pen has a connection to writing, and here i am writing. I am unwinding the spring.

But before all that, back to 3 seconds after reading what springs from my mindspring, my second thought was that it could be the water kind of spring. Water gushing up and soaking in and spreading out works well in the analogy too.

Perhaps Winter is the problem with my mindSpring... mandaBear in hibernation.


The Smear my Dear is in Your Ear

they cut the tree down across the street.

and now there is too much sky. too much sky is in my eye. and today is Rain. i like rain. but today is Rain and cold and blurry. blurry, blurry, slurry. everything wrong and melty. the world has gone sideways and wrong. sense and perspective are in the wrong place.

maybe i am having a skitzophrenic episode. i am paranoid and feeling like i have special communication abilities with machines. there is an Army in the washing machine and a Gossip in my computer. logic and illogic keep flipping, spinning.

garret keeps talking at me-- What's wrong? Why are you mad? Let's talk and make up. But i do not want to talk. i am not mad at him, or i was/am not until he forces his existence into my awareness. i am neutral in his general direction. if only he would just HUSH. he keeps TALK TALK TALKING and he is loud and clang. loud and clang and scrape my brain. and- Can I give you a hug? Why do you get mad when I touch you? and because it HURTS it HURTS. and i don't know. just is sandpaper-bleed-scrape-grate right now.

we went for a walk and the sky was wrong, and the trees were wrong, and the clouds were wrong. wrong and too close and just LOOKING at them was like a bad little shock.

Por que? Por que. Por que? Por que.

and he keeps teasing me, for all my idiot-ness. which i AM mad about for the second i remember it. i am mad because it scares me, it scares me when i do stupid things and when i am crazy and paranoid, and when they world looks wrong, and all my head will do is sing Seuss at me, and the world melts on windows and even though i know this is a Look, it Sounds wrong all the same. The Smear is in my EAR.

and i do not like it.

it is like... sometimes my internal Volume Control dial gets spun. and the new reality is in a different place than the day before. and sometimes everything goes too quiet and numb and i can not hear or feel as well, and then i NEED crush hugs and lots of talking and energy to help me adjust it back. but today is not that day. today is the other direction. and everything is TOO MUCH and i need creepy tip-toe voices and NO TOUCH!