The struggle to be Naked

My stomach began hurting. I had already been up all night, the day before, and the entire morning up until now (I am quite certain that i’m still awake).

When I am in pain, minor annoyances I experience with my environment begin to magnify with respect to the degree. I drank far too much butter coffee far too quickly, stacked with L-Theanine, Alpha GPC, Oxiracetam, and Modafinil.

I paced around, brainstorming a remedy for my condition, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. I would stop, rub my stomach, lean against the wall, and fix my gaze on a group of objects, and not being able to distinguish any textural contrast with the soles of my feet, feel bored and move.

Like Dis beating his wings and keeping himself frozen, I paced and fed the atmosphere of banality, and a peculiar Nihilism probably only felt in the West that comes with the realization, that, where once creature comforts were the happy byproduct of flopping down and  thoroughly enjoying the confluence of things that make it possible (like air-conditioning, shelter largely cut off from environmental and animal tampering), there is instead a convergence of all of those creature comforts MAGNIFIED, largely removed from the elements that made them so sensually enjoyable, psychologically cleansing, necessary..

The stupid square shape of my life and my books, the boring floors, humming electricity, saturated in music, social media, and developing tics..

Now, none of those things are bad. I did begin to hate them. I walked outside and hunched forward in the shade on the hot concrete, thinking that my visit to the outside world would be shortened to 1/10th if I just flung myself into the full sun in the front yard.

Non-the-less, i felt an immediate relief.. but craved more, if only to laugh at my own stupid neurosis, or look at it from another perspective. A truck drove by, and I ranted to myself about how I hate being reminded by sound and sight that others are around and can just as easily discover my position in space-time. I came to my senses and realized that it wasn’t a good place.

I walked gingerly  over some refuse to a shady part where some bricks sat and stood above them, tracing possible lines of sight from them to the road and all other points of access. I moved the pile forward a bit, and was rewarded with a small uprising of scuttling spiders. Patiently, I waited for two of them to traverse the bricks before sitting, simultaneously shedding my pants.

Discomfort melted away. The constellations of innumerable abstract point I was neurotically watching myself from fizzled and recycled themselves. My entire body was now communicating with its environment as one large, coherent organism. It felt like a circuit had been completed. I can’t emphasize that enough, the sensation that my skin was just switching on and began functioning like one big antenna. No ‘blurry’ patches anymore, where there was just the sensation of pants or shirt that is usually tuned out by the brain as sensory noise (which it effectively is). Space was freed up to allow all input to now mean more as a coherent whole.

In taking the mental step forward to cease my worry or concern over being seen naked, the capacity to fully enjoy near-complete immersion in the moment arose. Such “shock” moments arise that can provide the right nudge a person needs to connect with that slip-stream current. I cannot emphasize how dramatic my shift in perception was when I successfully passed through the membrane of social convention, acceptability, ect..

Actively, I am always putting my feelers out there. I know I touch upon the slipstream when I feel a charge. But the sensation dies away, not having been connected with the right number of others. Certain saturation points exist that can globally reawaken all of the other ‘feelers’ associated with that one. Of course, I am speaking in metaphor. By ‘feelers’ I mean conceptual material that has been refined a great deal usually floating free that is suddenly, and without warning, assembled by my mind into a completely new thing.

There is also an incredible sensuality to soil. Not so much sexual, but a strong feeling of being connected to it as extensions and limbs of the earth. No shame, no fear. I don’t know if I would become a permanent nudist, because I love hemp clothing too much for that, and I love surprising a lover with my physique. Perhaps 1 month out of the year..

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