I’m trapped in a fairy tale. An evil step mother has stuck an enchanted pin into my shirt. It lulls me to sleep. There’s a fisherman casting a large net into the water. It catches more fish than he needs. He’s a greedy merchant cashing in on a bounty from the Tyrant-king. The fish are in the water, they’re in the psyche. Their eyes are connected to real world distractions. Linked to selfish cycles of narcissism. Linked to addictions. The body’s not connected to the outside world. It’s the seat of consciousness. It’s separate. Because it’separate it can not see it’s role in society. Since it can not see it’s role as a passive background character in society it can not relate to itself as a part of the whole. Since it can’t relate to itself as a part of the whole it treats the world as a mode of pleasure, as a personal theater where grand battles of discrimination and victory play out. The mind is lulled by the pin into a fantasy that holds evil above my head. A potential future that may or may not happen has infected my breathing. I am brought back to simulated horrors – almost constantly. Simulated events blind me to the present. I waste my time because of it. I seek pleasure. I burn my throat with soda. I supercharge my head with the rush of empty carbs. Sobriety hasn’t been won just yet – no, no I picked up a new poison. A bitter poison.

The Tyrant-King has no face, has no form that I can see because I am the ocean, because I am the surface of the psyche. I only see the pollution from his kingdom, from his toxic beliefs, from his toxic habits. I only see the hordes of greedy fisherman taking in more than they need. Perhaps they are one and the same with the Tyrant-King. The enchanted pin pulls me inward. I can’t feel my body. The choir of aches and pains are hiding any genuine connection to my body. Because the pin pulls me from my senses the garden goes to waste, the soil’s lost it’s nutrients, the water is bitter, the seeds are inert and dead. Weeds grow everywhere. Prickly vines spread and grow. The body becomes an untrained dog tied to a fence post. It’s chain sinks into it’s neck. It barks at everything, constantly. It’s a ferocious beast. I can’t take it for a walk, can’t discipline it, can’t teach it tricks. There is no personality behind it’s eyes. It is muscle and savagery incarnate.

There’s a corpse under those vines. Paralyzed like me. One eye stays active – fearfully it shoots from left to right. But it ain’t connected to anything. Only the brain stem. Only to fear. The body has nothing to offer. The fisherman is killing more than he needs and the Tyrant King wants what he wants. Wants to bankrupt himself. Wants to poison the earth. Wants to scoop life into his gullet. Likewise – the body becomes undisciplined. Instead of barking at anything that moves, instead of running around it’s fence post until it’s wrapped up, instead of resting in it’s own shit it goes inward. The mind becomes the undisciplined animal. Anxiety, shame, guilt, fear, panic, gluttony, pleasure-seeking – it’s all the same ol’ same ol’.

I sit in bed holding my gut. Hand covering my calf. And my calf is huge. Huge, huge, huge. It’s larger than my fist and soft. It’s bigger than my heart. My thighs are larger than my head. My body is the ocean. I lean forward and back. The skin and fat stay in place. I am the undertow and my fat is the waves. I hold my fat in both hands, I scoop it up and under. I can feel the weight of my gluttony. I don’t see the evil in my ways, I don’t see the damage I’m doing to my body because I can’t see myself as connected to reality. Because I can’t see myself connected to reality, to the social order, to the outside world – I treat my body as a vessel for pleasure and fear. I examine my muscles and tendons. I stretch further than I usually do. I can feel the weight everywhere now. I can feel it pulling me backwards and to the earth. I extend my arms outward. Bend upwards at the elbow. I can feel the weight there to. I move my arms forwards and backwards. Up and down. I can feel the weight now. My mind’s no longer moving at a million miles an hour. I’m reconnecting to the body. I can feel it. I can feel my body. I can feel the pounds of sugar-water bubbling in my stomach. I can feel the acids breaking down pounds and pounds of mush. I’m disconnected from my body. My stomach, in my mind, extends only to my abdomen, to the muscles. It doesn’t notice the seven inches of fat extending outward. My skin is mute. My awareness of my skin is focused on rashes, on random spots that itch, on a cold nostril, on a cold arm. It doesn’t feel the weight of my gluttony, of my hedonism, of my pride, of my disconnect.

A voice speaks – pulls me back into slumber through the power of the enchanted pin. It makes me feel frightened. It speaks, “If you violate the social contract you can no longer be seen as “being-able-to-repent” because some people never feel empathy, never feel shame, never feel guilt. Because of this you must suffer as if you were one of them. No amount of repair can be taken that can show the world that you are remorseful. Nothing can sway the world’s opinion of you because you’ve shown yourself to be in contact with primal forces deep, deep, deep within the psyche – passed the world of conscious thought, you’ve swam with prehistoric monsters with angular jaws and milky white eyes, you have the scent of blood on you and the world can see your stained skin.”

I respond: “What can I do to show the world that I am sorry? How can I show the world that I’m a wreck? Is there no way to repent for my shortcomings?”

A black surface tension dissipates for a moment. I bubble rises from the inside. Tinged with a gold energy. “Educate yourself. Educate yourself because you aren’t the only one suffering from this decay. Nature doesn’t care. It only seeks balance. Attend to your garden, every day. Pull those weeds from the earth with bare hands. Pull the slivers out with pliers until your hands are numb and throbbing. Burn them in the fire pit. Tend to the earth. See to it that those seeds no longer go to waste. Educate yourself. You can’t find that pin on your own and you are not on your own. Educate yourself. You don’t need to change the world. You don’t need a P.H.D. Your goal ain’t the stars. Educate yourself and wrestle with this unseen Tyrant-King because his is a true empire. It extends far beyond your grasp. He’s controlling countess other souls. In taking on this task you take part in his death. Kings are supposed to be sacrificed when the crops fail, when prosperity dwindles, and he is no exception.”

Jung’s voice echoed down through the years. “Christ taught that god is love but you should know that love is also terrible – You dread the depths. It should horrify you since the way of what is to come leads through it. You must endure the temptation of fear and doubt and at the same time acknowledge to the bone that your fear is justified and your doubt is reasonable – how otherwise could it be a true temptation and a true overcoming?”