something else

06/13/2023 2 By BuddyCushman

I’ve been feeling my mind slipping some for a while now. Very clearly sensing that. Not in a clinical kind of way – men in white suits with butterfly nets time – at least that I know of, maybe when you’re crazy you don’t get to know you’re crazy. But, far as I know, that’s not it.

I went for a carotid artery ultrasound yesterday. My brain being tested, there’s an MRI in the wings three weeks out, an echocardiogram down the road. That stuff via referrals from the neurological people in response to a few times these last three or so years when my brain ceased to provide, in particular moments, the kind of typical information which is a given. Except when it isn’t. I suppose the medical people will let me know.

The sensation of my mind slipping is something else. Falling through a suddenly-opened trap-door. Hanging a left when the map says right. Making sure, more than ever, there’s a window or three to look out of if I’m finding myself in some room. For some reason. Though ultrasounds don’t offer windows.

Showing up here at the Blog this morning, and yesterday, there’s a quality of spontaneousness (if it’s a word), not a plan in sight. I find myself talking about “The Goonies” a fair amount; slightly fixated on ‘The Cowsills’; wondering if, just maybe, I touch enough flowers along the way I’ll turn into one. Or already am.

I read this in a book this morning – “A violet isn’t jealous of a rose.” I dig that a lot.