doushite

she said, but only to herself, {i don't care for you. but i care less for being altogether alone}

{heartless bitch}, thinks the one waiting for happiness.

ask the one who is not afraid, but she too, if she lives long enough, will run out of people that truly love her. or will run away from them. run away so they don't have a chance to change their minds. run away so she doesn't have to make up her mind. run away so she doesn't have to see the mess she's made of herself, of others. run away so she doesn't have to clean up the mess that other have made for themselves, for her.

things get lost. the running only disorients.

come and find me! someone...anyone...

stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it i hate it dont look at me that's not for you it's gross it's impure it's it's it's stop stop it isn't me it's not it's not it's not it's not i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate me i hate myself so much

The lack of demonstrated empathy is possibly the most dysfunctional aspect of Asperger syndrome (AS). Individuals with AS experience difficulties in basic elements of social interaction, which may include a failure to develop friendships or to seek shared enjoyments or achievements with others (for example, showing others objects of interest); a lack of social or emotional reciprocity; and impaired nonverbal behaviors such as eye contact, facial expression, posture, and gesture.
Unlike those with autism, people with AS are not usually withdrawn around others; they approach others, even if awkwardly, for example by engaging in a one-sided, long-winded speech about a favorite topic while being oblivious to the listener's feelings or reactions, such as signs of boredom or haste to leave. This social awkwardness has been called "active but odd" This failure to react appropriately to social interaction may appear as disregard for other people's feelings, and may come across as insensitive. The cognitive ability of children with AS often lets them articulate social norms in a laboratory context, where they may be able to show a theoretical understanding of other people's emotions; they typically have difficulty acting on this knowledge in fluid, real-life situations, however. People with AS may analyze and distill their observation of social interaction into rigid behavioral guidelines and apply these rules in awkward ways—such as forced eye contact—resulting in demeanor that appears rigid or socially naïve. Childhood desires for companionship can be numbed through a history of failed social encounters.

well, can't they fix it, like the way they fix left-handed kids?

hurts (herself) just to feel. but isn't this what you call a beautiful day?

this is not me! it can't be. there's more. there has to be. it's deeper. much deeper. the places where other people can't go. the places where i dont go. the places that come visit me. in dreams. in the bed that i'm afraid to be in alone. with the person with whom i'm afraid to share those dreams. what are you waiting for? what are you hoping for?

what are you waiting for? i'm living my life!
what are you hoping for? i do what i want!
what are you waiting for? is everything so fateless?
what are you hoping for? i dont mind
what are you waiting for? i dont care
what are you hoping for? what's it to you?
what are you waiting for? i dont want this
what are you hoping for? i dont want this
what are you waiting for? i dont want to be alone
what are you hoping for? i dont want to be alone
dont leave me dont desert me dont forget me

[this is what you wanted. these are the choices you made. it's all been up to you. this is your world, and this is what you've done with it. you aren't a spectator in a clockwork universe. this is your life. this is YOUR life. this is your story. (and you can tell everybody) this is your song. this is your darkness. this is your salvation. this is your friendship. this is your love. this is your weakness. this is your loneliness. this is your sorrow. this is your defeat. this is your emptiness. this is your despair. this is your closet. this is your bright idea. this is your endless possibility. this is your event horizon. this is your existence.]

the hell are you talking about? like this was all my idea? like this was all my choosing? like i wanted this stupid nose? like i wanted this useless arm? like i wanted this tyrant family? like i wanted this lame school? like i wanted this social awkwardness? like i wanted this prudish church? like i wanted this tard boss? like i wanted rape, like i wanted cancer, like i wanted betrayal, like i wanted failure, like i wanted age spots, like i wanted freak roommates? like i want to bleed? i dont even want kids! are you even listening to yourself, or do you just trying to convince yourself you're in control?

why is it up to me? why is it always me? why am i the one who has to do everything? this is so tiring. why can't things just be easy for once? why can't things work themselves out on their own? why do i have to be the responsible one? i'm not the best. i'm not even good. so why do i have to do it? why do i get stuck looking out for everyone? people dont care about me. no one cares about me. not really. not for the things that really matter. of course it has to be up to me, because no one else will. not for me.

well, it is what it is. and sometimes there's something i can do and sometimes there isn't. right now i'm useless. i'm weak. i'm good for nothing. i'm not helping anyone. i should be thrown away. i should be discarded. no one should pay any attention to me. i should be ignored. i should be banished. i wish i was invisible, so no one would see how worthless i am. so no one could see that their not caring isn't wasted.

but then, isn't that what the face paint and boobs are for? so people can look at other things and i can still be a little less alone and be told what i want to hear if only for a little while.

she wishes getting back to sleep wouldn't always be so difficult, especially since it always takes her back to the same place.

but time flows like a river, and history repeats itself

i tried to understand
i believed the best i could
i followed rules and regulations
just like in the Book

but something is amiss
i'm in a different story
i see no king, no wedding ring
no comfort riches glory

was my faith not on solid ground?
am i lost not to be found?
no piece of peace, not loved above
where is my rest, where is my crown

like the cruel angel
i went
but it's just as before
desolate, isolate, inanimate
inconsolable

i'm not surprised

at least i wasn't expecting anything this time

initially joss whedon

i make no apology for the fact that i invest much more in R&D than i do marketing. my administration budget is on the leaner side of sufficient, but i do so hate paperwork. and i like to think i manage myself efficiently, on the whole, despite being readily diverted by the likes of Dr. Horrible (PhD in Horribleness) and Josh Hamilton (BA in the .300s).

(And just as a side note, Cliff Lee, are you kidding me?)

ok, it's true that i haven't written in a while, and i might be rusty, but given my recent difficulties along other lines of communication, i am resorting to this sort of broadcasting. what i'm getting at is that despite all of the interaction i have with people in the hospital, there's a level of connection that isn't being satisfied, and therefore i'm using this medium to exorcise my demons. not that i really care if anyone reads this. that's not the point. the point is that i'm making it external to myself, so that i needn't carry it around myself. i wouldn't wish it on anyone else (in case you're wondering, because i sure am, i don't know what exactly 'it' refers to in the last couple sentences. i think the whole thing is a lesson in the value of pronouns when a true noun isn't readily available).

but now that i have you here, there's nothing really to say. i'm tired. yeah, that's about it. and now i'm going to expound on it, for my own sake, just so i know what i'm talking about, and there's no real reason for you to read any further. especially since if you were to ask me in person, the conversation would end with the period that succeeds "tired." but, since i have nothing else to do, and since the following isn't too personal to withhold, i will break down my tired's bajillion fourteen different meanings (i'm saving the parabola for when i really need it).
i'm tired of waking up at 5 to do a job that someone else is going to do anyway because they don't trust me.
i'm tired of studying every day.
i'm tired of my back pain.
i'm tired of not having anything to look forward to.
i'm tired of not knowing spanish and not having the time to learn it.
i'm tired of being asked inane (and at their worst, rhetorical) questions that don't merit a response.
i'm tired of my room being so hot that i can't fall asleep.
i'm tired of living alone in my head.
i'm tired of pretending i'm dead, especially since i've done an awful job at replacing brandon moor.
i'm tired of my worsening vision.
i'm tired of feeling sorry for myself.
i'm tired of being too tired to fix any of this.
i'm tired of being so careful.
i'm tired of having to do everything myself (well, i wouldn't trust it any other way, which may or may not be beside the point. but still i'm tired of it).

well that's pretty extensive. and of variable veracity / the parasol got out of hand (like might happen tatooine). {i have to stretch to follow that last bit there}

anyway, i'm done kvetching. really, all i want is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a moment to pray for Randy Pausch's family, and to fall asleep listening to FF8 piano music.

...

it's there, but

has everything changed,
or has nothing?

BOOSH! (not boushh, sorry, leia-lovers)

i've come to the realization that at no point am i likely to become motivated to study for boards (or that any such sense of urgency will present itself at too late an hour to be considered useful. presently, we're at T minus 53 days and counting). armed with that conclusion and an uncharacteristic moment of clarity and reason, i decided that i would exile myself to a two month world of unhappy productivity. i am not driven to such a place by a feeling dread or apprehension. i don't give a damn about boards. i think i could probably pass them tomorrow if i had to. and it has nothing to do with residency. i have no respect for residencies that are all about high board scores. i hereby allow any of you to shoot me through the back of my head with a handgun if i ever start talking about wanting to do ENT, ophtho, or derm. really, i just have nothing better to do, so i might as well do well. you know, give me something to brag about. something to flaunt. since i dont have boobs.

(at this point, i should probably relate my test detestation. well, most of you would want only to read the abstract.

ABSTRACT: tests are like monopoly. being good at monopoly doesn't mean you understand how money works. it means you know how monopoly works. (also you probably roll well, but that's not my point. my point is that a thorough understanding of the parameters, both spoken and their unspoken corollaries, under which the game operates allows one to approach a game with the greatest ability to succeed)

INTRODUCTION: stop reading, comma)

having displaced myself to this impermanent internment, i have stumbled upon a place of surprising tranquility. perhaps this is the peace of an isolated and determined mind. however, my social disconnect is as evident as ever. i find conversations invariably tedious and stilted (usually this privilege is reserved for blonde girls that i find annoying. wait, i should draw a Venn diagram)


_______________________________________
|........annoying people...............|
|...............***********************|******
|...............*.....girls............|.....*
|...............*......................|.....*
|...............*...xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx...|.....*
|...............*...x..............x...|.....*
|...............*...x..blondes.....x...|.....*
|...............*...xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx...|.....*
|...............*......................|.....*
|...............***********************|******
|______________________________________|

fig newton 1.1 (sleeve not to scale)
)

ok, that takes forever. i retire from art using ascii (or wiscii).

and now it's time to learn more about diabetes (so i can justify watching hockey and basketball all afternoon and evening, which i intend to do anyway, justified or not. i <3>

itinerant repossession

is it still my room when i'm not in it? what if none of my stuff is in it? and what makes it my stuff? what makes it my bed, my books, my computer, my clothes? i didn't make them. i didn't write them. they weren't made for me, they weren't written for me. they're just, objects, separated from other spaces by a shell of walls. and somehow, no one else feels entitled to this space, or these objects. can i take this further? what makes it my prosthetic heart valve? or my dental fillings? what makes them my teeth, my hands, my eyes, my lungs? my memories? my thoughts? my dreams?

psychoanalysts and frequently psychiatrists have to be psychoanalyzed before they can practice. i think trauma surgeons should have to be shot or stabbed.

(i might want to rethink oncology. and no one would ever want to be a coroner. and pediatrics would flourish)

inflammation

quote from our embryology textbook:

"Although mental retardation is not generally part of the syndrome, the more X chromosomes there are, the more likely there will be some degree of mental impairment."

(i suppose it should be said that this sentence comes in the context of klinefelter's syndrome, which is when you have extra sex chromosomes in boys, like XXY or XXXY)

and yet you continue to talk to me like you know me

apologies are in order

dear
i'm sorry i won't be going. lobby day sounds very fun (the whole all-inclusive bit is especially tempting), yet i can't bring myself to act overtly in the political realm. i won't legitimize it. i won't accept that image is everything. sure, they'll patronize me and my 'concerns,' but it's empty. (i guess if you're an atheist, maybe you are what other people say you are. but if you believe in God, you are accountable to Him.) so thanks but no thanks; call me if you decide to go the sedition/subversion route. but go ahead and you can try the top-down approach. my work is at the bottom.

dear
of course i dont trust you. wait that sounds harsh. what i mean is that i dont trust you to hold my best interests as the top priority. yes i am that selfish. for that, i'm more sorry than you know (though i suppose i'm trying to tell you here).

dear
it's nice to know i'm not alone. sorry i'm not better company. i'd get frustrated too (though much easier than you).

i love you all (marta)
jw

passion

on sunday i attended the wedding of a man i greatly admire. it was a 'nice' ceremony; mostly traditional (as far as i understand traditional weddings, which isn't very well at all. surprise!) except that we had communion during it (which was brilliant. knock out as many sacraments as you can as fast as you can. gives me more time to return to my sinful ways. though i dont know if the transubstantiation occurred. so maybe it doesn't could. also, i'm not catholic, so maybe it doesn't matter).

after the service, all the guests were invited to take part in a group picture, and then attend a reception (najwa medina (jay razzouk's aunt) catered and she made her middle eastern fare and it was soooo delicious. my goal is clear: convince all my friends to get married and have najwa take care of the food.)

none of this really matters; they're little factoids from my weekend. but i had to set the stage (and forgive me if i did a poor job. i've never been a stagehand.)

there was music, there was the bouquet toss, there was cake cutting, and there was a toast. it was all fine.

the groom is a doctor. for many years he worked as a missionary in africa, and even still, africa is his calling. one of the projects he is supporting right now is an orphanage in uganda. and for a good hour, the focus was on this mission. the bride and groom both talked about their involvement, they showed a video on the place, and also gave the microphone to the project director to talk about the work being done. (i've forgotten to mention, but the wedding invitation expressly stated that if a guest wished to make a gift for the couple, he or she should support this organization). (but there was no appeal for moneys. in no way did the event become a fundraiser. the closest thing to that was that the groom-doctor did announce that he was hoping to put together a team to go fix cleft palates, which is a major cause of social anxiety and distress (as it is seen as some sort of curse from whatever gods africa believes in. basically, kids with these sorts of deformities never leave the house.))

what a couple! this is their wedding day, and the focus is on the intimacy and devotion they share, but what a special quality it is. i'm all sorts of inspired.

[and this is love]

unkept

hidden in my room is a small wooden box
my cousin made for me
and while right now i can think of nothing else
when i am old and even more forgetful
my (or is it your?) memories will only be found folded there
expectant words and exultant pictures

even now they look so tidy
with no tear splotches
of course
you only wrote to indulge me
i only smiled to indulge you

the air was awfully clear today.
back when we talked endlessly
my words all were without lies.
the pure dreams i showed you there
are the hardest to replace.

tomorrow morning brings no sun.
it won't matter.
i won't really awaken anyway.

imperative

yes i will lie here
where the wind blows clouds into shapes and i name them
and give them significance

and i tell myself that i will not think of you
but then spend all of my time crowding you out of my thoughts
and am so surrounded

i would stay here
without you, i care not where i am
and here is no worse than

"tomorrow"
place your faith in
if you yet have hope for me

or else
take me back to a morning
when seeing you wasn't the reason i opened my eyes

darkness is coming
it will be another day without you
and my dreams will again wait for sleep to be realized

watercolors (blurry eyes)

watercolors (blurry eyes)

your face now tells me you don't remember
(your world is refractory)
my earth joy-danced the paths you walked
(where is your true emotion?)

holding my thoughts deep inside
we'll make small talk
and in the evenings
i'll wish i had the courage to call

there is a distance
is that your defense?
maybe if you were fifteen you'd allow yourself to hope

and when you do draw close, i reach out and clasp tight
but still our hearts separate easily
maybe i've never touched yours

holding my thoughts deep inside
i'll be nice to your friends
but when we're all in a circle
i'll be quiet and look most at the ground

there is a distance
and you look to it sometimes
what is so far off?
and why do you not go there?

(selfishly, i'd wish it with me)
i hope there is a future
with good days when you smile for the existence of pinwheels
and bad days when tears come and you don't leave the room
because you are not alone
in your beautiful world

it's all in the wist

it's not so simple {but of course it's not so simple. if it was so simple, i'd have figured it all out, and it wouldn't be bothering me, and i wouldn't be bothering you} but i miss the quiet productivity of last year. it was so nice {it's easy now to say such things categorically}. granted, i was just as {un}happy, but at least there was a reason, and at least things were getting done. (well, i'm not really unhappy. it's some weird mix between "i'm only happy when i'm not;" and a general aversion to good things because they always come at some price; and the general "i learn my lessons, so no way in hell {because it was} i'm gonna let that happen to me again" mentality. yes, this is a bit cryptic, and i'm ok with that.)

of course, last year i was making the same complaint (that is, missing the past). (only it was the opposite, because i was so happy, though so unproductive, in vietnam the year before)

maybe i just need someone to make me study.

meditation, epiphany, and then rejecting the opportunity for self-growth

It's a ridiculous notion. I know it doesn't make sense. It's irrational. And I'm rather rational, so it'd seem like I'd be able to work my way around it, but it's just a feeling I get and there's no talking myself out of it. I don't trust happiness.

It's too ephemeral, it's too fugitive, it's too flighty, it's too capricious. It's never around long enough to bask in its comfort. And it always comes at a price, and most of the time, I'd rather forgo both cost and benefit. This isn't just "Change sucks" or "Here's why I don't take many risks" (these things have their roles, probably, but aren't the cornerstone). You know how some people think they have a certain number of heart beats before they die? I feel like I'm allotted a certain amount of happiness. And it's not very much, and I don't want to waste it, especially not when I'm alone.

I know, I know, this maybe makes sense if you think the gods are jealous. It's never a good idea to be prettier than Aphrodite.

If I had to guess (I'm always doing this anyway) I'd say it's just a way of keeping things level. Going high only makes for more of a drop when you fall. Oh dammit all, is this another defense mechanism? Come on. How pathetic. Couldn't it be something more clever or robust, or at least something with a little more depth? It's just another wussy reason not to be excited or open up or trust others, etc etc. Oh don't even try to live up to your name, Vuk. Still, it's a good thing I caught this myself. If I was seeing a shrink, (s)he'd probably try to get me to do something about this. Try and get me to waste some of my precious happiness. And for what? There's no one around worth wasting it on. Well maybe family. But they already know I'm most happy when I'm not, so it'd just confuse things (more). See, a little introspection saves money and happiness.

familiarity

ahh test week. as abusive as ever. i've had difficulty concentrating, so i'm considering recycling. how illegal is it to publish bits from a personal letter written some time ago? is there some sort of expiration date? the note was written more recently than when i started blogging (two years ago. good grief i'm old).

friend rankings (low to high, based much on the things you share (i think. this was some time ago)):

fire drill friends
festival friends
facts friends
food friends
fallback friends (faute de mieux)
favorites friends
feelings friends
fears friends
fast friends
fairy-tale friends
finality friends

something i noticed from reading my old writings (a literary analysis of myself!) is that usually when i wish to present an idea or joke i'm uncomfortable owning up to (for various reasons, but usually the inherent tactlessness of whatever i'm wanting to say), i usually allow an alter ego to present it. i achieve this mainly by letting opposing voices (presumably in my head) engage in dialogue. in doing so, i save face by having one of my personalities play it straight and uphold duty and morals and all that. the other deviates as he pleases. consider:

[modified from the end of a cheer-up note]

"but at least you're not dead. so there's your solace.

jw

{{yeah, you're not much of a comforter}}
{what does that mean?}
{{you're no good in bed}}
{remind me never to let you talk to girls}"

so yeah, i think it works out pretty well for me.

for all of you in my class who are studying psychopathology and suspecting an auditory hallucination from an overactive limbic cortex, rest assured. there are way more than two voices in my head. i just screen out the bizzare ones, sometimes. enjoy your meal.

WTS [1 hour of my precious study time] 5g obo pst

at school, there are always "interest group" meetings. i'm not quite sure why. i think they're the residency equivalent of premed or predent societies. you get the internal medicine interest group (IMIG) or the mission interest group (MIG) or the pediatrics interest group (presumably PIG, but it's never been advertised as such).

these events often include food, which is probably their major draw. medical students are easily bought. feed us a $2.50 burrito and give us a water bottle, and we're yours for 45 minutes (especially if we have lab in the afternoon and therefore need to be back on campus later). for all our self-professed high standards and professional responsibilities, we are whores for a free meal.

to be fair, the ceremonies that accompanies the meals probably are worth it. the meal is probably a perk. but wow. just think. for twenty thousand bucks or so, you could indoctrinate a whole generation of physicians with whatever sort of lunchtime garbage you wanted to feed them. religion, politics, business practices, anything. and they'd soak it up better than they do psychopathology.

what? you study? fascinating. do explain.

lies i tell:

it's on the left. half way down. you can't miss it.

oh, no, class doesn't start until 10 today.

yeah, she's great. and you're so good together.

well, i'd better get going. gotta study, ya know.

i just happened to be around, thought i'd stop by.

see you soon!

just let me finish this level. i'll be there in a sec. (random thought, if it's more than one sec, is it secs?)

electron orbital hybridization? i was wondering about that myself. i have no idea.

sorry.

oh, i'd love to but i have some family stuff going on.

please? i wont stay long.

that'll buff right out.

yeah, i'd love to try some of your homemade eggplant artichoke bread.


most of these are just conversation grease. things you say to keep interactions running smoothly.

other times, i get asked a question i dont want to answer. in some circumstances, lying is really the best way out. for some reason, people assume that just because they ask a question, they should get an answer (or perhaps what it really is is that many people think they have to answer a question asked of them. but either way.) this isn't true. sometimes it's appropriate to answer these questions with an "i'd rather not say." sometimes saying that does answer the question, or sometimes that answer seems to also imply "oh, i'm actually dying to tell you the answer so please use the next 45 minutes to drag the answer out of me." i take these opportunities to create fiction.

mercynary: for Higher (band and album name for a christian group)

weekend quiz

question 1
why was this weekend awesome? (pick 5)

a. jimmy eat world is amazing in concert, especially when the set includes 23, work, hear you me, pain, and sweetness.
b. steve irwin and arnold schwarzenegger impressions never get old, even if it basically the exact same thing last year
c. we watched crouching tiger, hidden dragon (though i fell asleep and maaaaaaaybe snored)
d. pine springs ranch was very fun, especially saturday afternoon sports
e. we got a girl to drink the hot chocolate into which she'd just 5 minutes earlier dumped a large amount of salt (with the hopes that someone could be tricked into drinking it). (she should be happy about this. it won her some cute points. it also lost her some smart points. or maybe she knew that this would win her cute points, and was doing all this for my amusement. false. it's a widely acknowledged fact that girls will do most anything to find my favor, but this kind of scheming is smart and manipulative, and girls just aren't capable of that, right?)

correct answer: A, A, C, D, E. "A" should be circled twice, possibly with hearts.

question 2
the st. louis rams are *best* described as which of the following?
a. 0-4
b. pathetic
c. still being cheered for by most Los Angeles bandwagoners
d. a decent matchup against the new orleans saints
e. wankers that are single-handedly costing someone his fantasy football season

*best* correct answer: E

question 3
list 3 movies that are currently playing in theaters:

answer: i'll pretty much accept any answer. i have no idea myself, and don't really care to (though i'm sure i could be persuaded).

question 4
at the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow
a. your trumpets angels and arise
b. your nose
c. hard. as in, "oh tobias you"
d. blow blow your chance at the postseason, silly mets
e. bubbles

answer: A. we've donne this all before. suppose i could have said "death be not proud" but everyone's heard that, and this way i appear slightly smarter than a simple wikipedia search. this is an illusion. it's just that i've explored different avenues (clicked different links in the sequence that led me to this place. a familiar place, because we sang a song in high school using these lyrics.)

question 5 (last one, cuz i'm getting tired)
man's best friend =
a. dog
b. cat or other animal not dog
c. car/truck
d. computer
e. woman

answer: varies. i'm always amazed though by people who can care for more than one for any length of time. except an ant farm. those little guys really don't need much human involvement.

arcadia: memento mori

timing is everything (this is the supposition i'll attempt to stick to)

sometimes i wish i drank coffee so i could pour cream into it and watch. i wish the air was coloured and would billow and whorl and twist and break around me like so.

twirl to the left and watch entropy go.
twirl to the right and watch it unmix.

what if it did unmix? what if we weren't all bound for heat death and could revolt against King Chaos and mix and unmix as we pleased?

it'd be fun to watch. fireworks in reverse. blowing bubbles and breathing in and watching them all return to the wand. rebounding the thunder and watching another flash of lightning. don't brake; decelerate. ununtie your shoes and lets go.

would you be able to un-blow kisses? could you un-boil blood, or unbleed? would "wipe that smile off your face" be the same as un-"breaking into a grin?" is it hello, or repealing the previous goodbye? where would the tears go when they rolled up cheeks? how would you know, when you looked in her eyes, if the forever you saw was past or future? would the dagger hurt as much coming out as going in?

and at the end of the night, there's another dusk, and the world may forget (or unsee) dawn.

appositely, the light ne'er leaves, the shadows flee, and we all faint from heat exhaustion.

vagrancy

i was writing a sonnet today and it was going well but the rhymes ended up confounding the message and i can't fix it and that's irritating me.

sometimes i worry with my poetry (and all my literature) because i fear messages may be read into my words. for instance, today it was a love sonnet. in no real way am i qualified to write a love sonnet at this point in time. but the ideas came to me, and so i wrote it. not for, nor to, nor about, nor with, nor at, nor regarding anyone. i'm sure some sources (history or fantasy) were utilized, but it's just a poem. it's not necessarily a reflection of present truth or future hopes or yesterday's feelings. it could be, but you're not as likely to find that here. i censor content much more than i censor vocabularly. penis.

today i worked at being nice. i think it went over the top. not that it matters. i succeeded, and it doesn't matter if it appeared real or not, because it was.

i've slipped. it's part of the mindwashing that is medical school. i've traded some of my freedom for fitting in and meeting expectations. it wasn't a big deal, but from what i can tell, it's all part of the slippery slope into medical indoctrination and despair. forget the hippocratic oath. well, here it is.

I swear by Apollo Physician and Asclepius and Hygieia and Panaceia and all the gods and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfill according to my ability and judgment this oath and this covenant:
To hold him who has taught me this art as equal to my parents and to live my life in partnership with him, and if he is in need of money to give him a share of mine, and to regard his offspring as equal to my brothers in male lineage and to teach them this art - if they desire to learn it - without fee and covenant; to give a share of precepts and oral instruction and all the other learning to my sons and to the sons of him who has instructed me and to pupils who have signed the covenant and have taken an oath according to the medical law, but no one else.
I will apply dietetic measures for the benefit of the sick according to my ability and judgment; I will keep them from harm and injustice.
I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect. Similarly I will not give to a woman an abortive remedy. In purity and holiness I will guard my life and my art.
I will not use the knife, not even on sufferers from stone, but will withdraw in favor of such men as are engaged in this work.
Whatever houses I may visit, I will come for the benefit of the sick, remaining free of all intentional injustice, of all mischief and in particular of sexual relations with both female and male persons, be they free or slaves.
What I may see or hear in the course of the treatment or even outside of the treatment in regard to the life of men, which on no account one must spread abroad, I will keep to myself, holding such things shameful to be spoken about.
If I fulfill this oath and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely, may the opposite of all this be my lot.

ok, so it says do what's in the patient's best interest and dont have sex with them. brilliant. and leave the surgery to surgeons. yes. good idea. it also says no abortion and no euthanasia. it also says teach doctors kids to be doctors if they want to be, and do it for free. well, this is debatable. it also says don't teach medicine to people who aren't doctors. i'm pretty sure this is the reason AIDS is such a problem and cholera exists at all (well, lack of knowledge and the fact that people don't act as rationally as economic theory assumes).

maybe it would be useful if people wrote out vows. swear before God the things you believe.

no, that's too dramatic, too binding. it'd never work in our society.

maybe this is where prayer comes in. to me, prayer is wonderful for reminding me what's important. when something needs to be done, i write it on my list. it doesn't get prayed for (usually). prayer is for priorities. maybe what needs to happen is i need to work for the answering of the prayers harder myself.

this is a difficult area for me. in some ways, i expect to throw up a hail mary and hope god catches it for a touchdown. opposingly, i think i should be responsible for making good things happen. i am the hands and feet for my God. i am His mouthpiece. i am the bringer of Good News and the emissary and executor of His goodness and mercy. i have this power (i like to think it's God-given). why would i not use it?

and still people trade Life for meaninglessness, for ephemera, for fame, for gratification, for trillion dollar pittances, for vengeance, for vanities. and i do the same. the influence of peers, of community is irrepressible. oh, to be alone.

i'm wandering. i'm caught up in the overworld. here's why:

there's a little girl that i met who's very afraid. her step-dad drinks (this is one of the primary problems) and has physically abused her mom, and she tries to protect her mom by acting out at home. it works to some degree; some of the fighting that would go on between the mom and dad instead is directed at her. but this frustrates her mom, who loves her. the step-dad doesn't seem to care to be involved. he's scared of the girl. scared of upsetting her and causing another tantrum that he doesn't want to have to deal with.

and the girl feels unloved. but don't worry, that'll probably change soon. temporarily. she's at the age where her body is about to change, and some boy or man will desire it, and he'll tell her he loves her. and he'll probably get out of her what he wants. and when he's done, he'll probably leave, and she'll still be looking for love. and all she needs is her dad to tell her he loves her and that he's proud of her and that she's special and why the fuck wohtn poehwapl;sdfghkl;dfghkdhfjkslh

i'm calming. trying to. but damn it all. this isn't some sex slave a world away. this is just beyond my sphere of influence and it's infuriating.