Journal Entry: Meeting the Child Surgeon Again

Friday, Febuary 16, 2024. 11:00 AM

I woke up a little later than usual this morning. My body felt like someone was sitting on it… Someone big and heavy. My lungs were whistling. They haven’t done that for a while. I found it hard to breathe… Until I the bird to the ceiling fan

‘F you, and F the world. I quit!’ I also wished them luck, with some parting advice, ‘ What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.’ And there was something about laughing hyenas as well…

After that, I watered the two orchids. They have some friendly rivalry going on between them. The smaller one needs some encouragement to grow. The lemon grass is almost dead, but I’m doing my best.

I boiled some water and added it to the filter, for my breakfast… Which has only consisted of coffee these past few days.

I then sat on my chaise longue (on which I’m on almost all day long, during this past month), and closed my eyes. I turned my eye inwards, because ‘f off world’ and all that…

I met the Child, that kid who performed surgery on me a long long time ago, in the world of no deception, where courtesy is a curiosity, since the people there have never needed to know it. I decided that it was time to put myself back together. He took a look of me, and said that he didn’t remember cutting apart so many pieces. Anyway, he then took out a freaking drill, and put on a cooking apron, and winked at me.

We floated to my lake, filled with star dew.

“This place is good,” he said, while the universe shone.

The reinsertion began, but then somebody started playing music outside after a few minutes in, and I started to feel very sad and cry. I don’t know why.

We decided to take a break. I brushed my teeth, took a leak, washed my hands and mixed my coffee, after straining out all of that yucky cream.

When I came back to the lake, the child surgeon was waiting, with his assistants.

He shoved his fingers through my ears and then blew through them. He used a saw to cut open my abdomen and took out a wreath, from which he made confetti rain.

He took out some metal plates from my elbows and replaced them with something. He pulled my heart out, put it in a kitchen pot along with some salt and pepper, water, assorted herbs and spices. He made me drink it. I choked a little at first.

I should not have mentioned ‘bowel wash,’ because it seemed to give him a new idea. The solution he used felt quite hot.

He gave me a new eye, brought by the wind. I have four now.

I will not say where he put the tree, but the wind was very happy about it.

His assistants hung me on a clothesline, and blew… Not like big bad wolves… I had fun dancing around while being strung out to dry.

He used a giant mallet to fasten on some button things near my left waist.

He pulled out a piece of his hair, and threaded a needle to stitch something up.
He asked his big tree assistant for some leaves, and shoved his hand into the open wound in my stomach. I think he put something in there, after which he bandages it with those leaves.

He seemed to take delight in nursing the follicles on my scalp, and electrifying my beard. (I have been feeling too tired to shave).

I don’t know if I feel more whole now. If there were parts of me in here now that were missing, the child did such a good job that I can’t even tell. I wonder when the anesthesia will wear off.

(I’m just going to come out and admit it now. Some of my poems are crafted from visions I sometimes receive. I have been having more of them lately, and all with a remarkable degree of control and clarity. I know that this sounds crazy. I know that I sound crazy, which is why I usually try to cover them up. I don’t care any more! I wanted to do this in verse, since the blog title is ‘Blog inVERSE, but I think this journal post still might work, as inverse?)