The Beast Report


First, a recap.
It all started with a recurring dream. There I am, flying along just above the road. Yes, flying, how cool is that? So I'm flying along and I try to gain some altitude, but there are these power lines above me, and no matter how hard I try, I can't make the angle to get between them so I can go up. The meaning I attach to this is that the power lines represent that part of myself that won't let myself persue good things. for example, for years I thought I wanted to get a job as a computer programmer again. I even had a plan to brush up on my skills and start a serious job hunt. Instead of doing that, I found every excuse not to, to do anything else as long as it wouldn't result in me getting a nice job. The power lines represent that part of me that refuses to succees. so, I had a little chat with the power lines. The power lines said they are a help, not a hinderance, because they protect me from the Beast. The Beast represents all my repressed anger directed inward. It is a seething mass of self-hatred, labeling, and prejudice. It is animal rage with only one target, myself. It is also a great big destraction away from the real issue of the power lines. There's some mental slight of hand going on here, and it may not make sense outside the context of bipolar disorder. To someone with bipolar, what goes up must come down, and the higher up it went, the lower down it goes. One moment you are on top of the world and the universe has aligned to make everything perfect, and the next moment life is an intolerable pain and getting up in the morning is too much work. The power lines are claiming to save me from the low by denying me the high. This is a great destraction. It strikes on something I believe on an intuitive level despite my intelect claiming otherwise, and it's a part of myself I try not to think to hard about. So it's easy to play along and believe that's all there is to it. But it's all a ruse. It's a way to shift focus away from the real question of where this self defeating and sometimes self destructive bent comes from. But exploring this is difficult. It puts me right back against the power lines. They don't want to be explored. Instead, I get up to get a drink, and suddenly remember I have groceries to buy. Pay no attention to what's behind the curtain! What's behind the curtain, you ask? Parden me, while I go get a drink. I want to treat it as an image, a great void, sucking the life out of me. A hole where part of my soul ought to be. But that's the hollywood version, complete with special effects budget. The truth is I don't know why I do this to myself. Maybe I have too much invested n being a washed-up has-been. Maybe I think I deserve to be miserable. Maybe I'm in such a habbit of doing nothing that there's no escape. Part of me, a very small, quiet part of me, thinks it's getting kinda old.

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Assignment: Write to the power lines, starting each sentance with "If it weren't for you". After you have done a bunch of these, repeate the excersize, only alternate miracles and disasters after saying "If it weren't for you".

Dear Power Lines,
If it weren't for you, I could fly in my dreams.
If it weren't for you, writing this would be a lot easier.
If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be struggling to make phone calls.
If it weren't for you, I might be able to take relationships seriously.
If it weren't for you, stinking power lines, I might have taken my career seriously.
If it weren't for you, I might have gone on to grad school and taken more math.
If it weren't for you, damn power lines, I'd have married one of the fabulous women I fell in love with.
If it weren't for you, power lines holding me back, I might have had children by now
If it weren't for you, you piece of shit power lines, I could do more with my writing than putting it on an anonymous web site.
If it weren't for you, I might clean my appartment.
If it weren't for you fucking power lines I could take care of myself!
If it weren't for you, maybe I wouldn't procrastinage on every little thing until it's too damn late.
If it weren't for you god-damned power lines I would have a real social life.

Now alternate miracles and disasters

Dear Power Lines,
If it weren't for you, I could win the Nobel Prize.
If it weren't for you, I could be homeless and destitute.
If it weren't for you, I could be independantly wealthy.
If it weren't for you, I could become a raging alchoholic.
If it weren't for you, I could be a rock star.
If it weren't for you, I could be killed in a gang war.
If it weren't for you, I could be married, and have kids.
If it weren't for you, I could be married, and have kids.
If it weren't for you, my creative talent would be limitless.
If it weren't for you, I'd have murdered myself by now.
If it weren't for you, I could finally be at peace.

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That's all for now. Stay tuned for further adventures with power lines!

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