I don't know why I call doctor's offices; they rarely call back, especially with anything useful. Should not have believed nurse on the phone yesterday, don't think endocrinologist will bother with me until appointment on the 15th. It seems a bit rude to say to someone "you know this could be serious" and then leave them to twiddle their thumbs for over a month waiting to hear about test results, whilst I continue to feel terrible and am annoyed/unnerved by continuing sharp pains in my side . . . anyway . . . largely related to my mind's desperate wanderings in search of something else to ponder . . .
This probably made more sense in my head and will sound ridiculous to everyone else. But someone has to say the ridiculous things, I suppose. Don't mistake me for applying for the position of village idiot, though; I know it's a growth industry, but I don't want to be pigeonholed . . .
Though a lot of associations I was thinking tonight about this thing I remember reading at some point - about some sacred flame in a cave somewhere (maybe Turkey?) that monks had been maintaining constantly for a thousand years or something nutty. I've lost a lot of my files due to poor organization and constant switching of word processors, but a long time ago I had started a novel based on that idea, which was intended to be an "alternate history", based on finding an ancient document of some kind, can't really remember (sort of a Dead Sea Scrolls thing). I suppose I'll find it again eventually, but the first paragraph was going to be from the inscription: something about "this is the candle we light to outlast us; may it never go out" . . .
Ah, that's true, isn't it? We're all the stewards of the flame - our past, our present, and ourselves . . . I'm sure I saw a translation for it before but damned if I can find it now, Bump of Chicken has a song called "Fire Sign" - the chorus has to do with there being an invisible flame of life: "through wind, through rain, believing in us it burns; like singing, like a whisper, believing in you it waits; even dimly, despite being unseen, the fire of life is found" (okay my translation may be FULL OF FAIL). (I think I mentioned it before . . .)
Everybody's got a little flame of their life - something about lights and bushels comes to mind (wouldn't it set the bushel on fire, anyway?). No one else can maintain it for you; though they can remind you to do it . . . and maybe Bump of Chicken is right; even dimly, it's still burning; it doesn't go out so easily. Of course, that's way less likely if you keep it in a cave in the middle of nowhere; but then what's the point, really? I guess it's sort of up to individuals whether they're going for "nice candle" or "m*therfscking INFERNO" . . . personally, I'm thinking pyromania sounds appealing.
Strictly speaking my real mood at the moment is "AUGH FSCK *take brick, hit head repeatedly", but you sort of have to think everything isn't messed up and what is, can't be that way indefinitely :\ right x_x