(no subject)
Finally got the third installment of my massive brain dump posted, but I have decided that it needs to remain private for the time being because, as Beth has advised me, "You have to let your crazy out in little bits, not all at once."
This is unfortunate, because overall it's a pretty good entry. Some substance to it. Was going to go leave some plugs for it in a few specific journals in the hope of inciting some discussion and possibly enlisting some help, but alas, the thing is liberally interspersed with giddiness and anxiety over things unrelated. I could always consolidate the meaty parts and reorganize them into this entry, but now that they're out of my head I find myself far too lazy to do so.
*sigh* I knew the content of my own brain would be insufficient to occupy me for two weeks. Back to the shower massager.
I feel a splat coming on. Like, when you're out for a stroll, and you can see that a ways up ahead of you there is an uneven seam in the sidewalk, and you make a mental note to not trip over it, but inevitably, by the time you get there, you will have forgotten all about it, so enthralled are you with your company, and you will catch your toe and be all *gaspsplatoomph*
Yeah. Just like that. Hopefully I will be a tough girl and not cry. Hopefully I will also get up and be brave enough to continue in the original dierection, because I'm kind of enjoying the stroll. For the first time in a long time I'm actually feeling good about one. Maybe for the first time ever, if I want to be completely honest with myself, which I don't often.
This is my cryptic way of saying that I have a new stallion in my life, which is what I was about to say prior to losing myself for five days in self-loathing and cynicism, which desperately needed purging from my system, and then for three additional days in no-internet-access, time which I spent alternating between trying not to cry and having a problem with everything, (Quick! Someone get that girl an atidepressant!) for which I blame my period. Stupid hormones making my internet connection bad.
That's right; I said it.
Gist of the Original 3rd was along the lines of pharmaceutical nation, how we're a product of it and are taking it one step further and applying it to our animals, reiterating why this is a bad idea using my now played-out racehorse example, pondering on what it would take to instill change, maybe doing some private research (assuming I could secure the funds and the cooperation of some trainers and/or the track vet; I'm really not sure who's in charge of that sort of thing...) and if I could find the correlation I'm convinced would be there, sending my results to someone who could afford to do the same study on a large scale and then have the clout to present it to the-powers-that-be in such a way that they couldn't ignore it as they've been doing for almost forty years now.
All heart and ambition and absolutely no means. Big ideas but no logistics.
But really. Something must change. Somebody has to start something, and it is evident to me that no one else is going to. Holding with the theory that everything happens for a reason, maybe this is why I had to break that horse down and take time off to think about it. Maybe higher forces really do know just what it takes to guide you in the direction you ought to be going. Maybe this is just another one of those short-lived passions of mine that'll peter out the minute I'm cleared to ride and get back on the track I want to be on again, but I'm a little afraid I'll just keep spinning my wheels in life if I don't eventually follow through on one of these higher missions I think up for myself. Like maybe God wants me to do something worthwhile and won't let me accomplish anything else easier/more selfish until I do.
Maybe this is just my subconscious's roundabout way of making me feel important. Like really, who the fuck do I think I am, right?
So that was my little bit of crazy for the day, for your consideration.
X-rays today. Hopefully I am miraculously cured, an shining example of the benefits of simple good nutrition, unmedicated. I can just see the look on my stuck-up neurosurgeon's face, annoyed with me for blatantly defying the opinions given him by his overpriced education. Hopefully he doesn't immediately deduce that I haven't been resting and wearing that stupid brace as prescribed.