Incessant Chatterings of Yours Truly

Cotard's Syndrome.

I know that most of the time we're wishing we /don't/ get some horrible, socially crippling disease, but as far as horrible, socially crippling diseases go, I think this one is fun.

I know that Mr. Pocket knows what Cotard's is, or he should, since I told him to read the book that I found it in. Let me drop a clue to the rest of the people around here who may not know what it is.

It's like faux zombism! The thought of running around, feeling generally as if you're hovering somehow outside of the walking, living, waking world, in some dead state just sounds incredibly bizarre to me and would be a mad trip. yes, that's a medical term. You can use it.

Or, in more specific cases, walking about and thinking that somehow, you just...lack blood. How does that happen?? You just wake up one day and say to yourself "Today feels different. I feel groggy and stiff. My blood must have all dried up." Or is it something that lurks about the peripheral of your mind for a long while that, hey, I'm starting to slow down. I'm getting older. I'm drying up. I feel dusty. Then one day WHAM! Oh no, my blood's been drying up for years now, it's fine.

What about people who believe they're missing organs? How does ones mind justify such a loss? It'd be /amazing/ to hear those explanations and hear the backflips that a person's mind does in order to justify a belief.

"Well, I don't have lungs."
"What? How are you breathing?"
"I'm not breathing. It's just a left-over reflex from when I had lungs as a child. I continue to do so because I've been trained to let my diaphragm flex and chest cavity expand. Plus, I need air to talk. Oh hum."
"So, you breathe, but you don't have lungs..."
"Yes."
"What happened to them?"
"They disintegrated the winter of 2002. I was outside ni the dead of winter, I caught frostbite in my lungs, and they disintegrated."
"Uh...huh."

That would be amazing. Walking around, thinking you're some form of walking dead. Either that you're in some shelf between life and death, or you're in heaven/hell/purgatory/limbo/elysium/whatever.

Now I know that Stuart Davis has that song "Practice Dying" but it's just not quite the same thing. They don't have a /fear/ of anything. They don't fear dying or anything like that. They believe they're already dead. Wholeheartedly. It's a kind of bizarre serenity to it all. Here's one case that's shown in Wiki. (And we know that Sami loves her some Wiki):

He just figured some vacation was his mother showing him around hell. It's madness! MADNESS! But it's a pretty cool madness.

I also think that Williams Syndrome would be kind of neat to have, but that's probably for another short winded rant.

For all of you who are interested, I first heard about Cotard's Syndrome in Chuck Klosterman's book Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story. Which is a highly recommended read on my list.



What kind of disease/syndromes/madnesses do you think would be kind of neat to have. If, you know, temporarily?

I'm surprised that you've never been told before that your lovely and you're perfect and that somebody loves you.

Something corporate - if u c jordan.

I remember you said you went to a concert in some shitty ass building. And how he lit his piano on fire and climbed on top of it and started screaming 'fuck you jorsan' as it burned under him.
That struck me as so powerful. I was envious. And how passionate you got. How I loved watching you get like that.

Something corporate - Konstantine

Do I need to begin? This is one more than one of your cds you made. Boys about girls. SoCo. We bothe loved this piece. So beautiful and heart wrenching. I'm gonna cry. 11 minutes of heart wrench gut twitching joy. I remember sitting in your room or sitting in my cold ass livingroom with you and we bothe groaned, then laughed. We didn't change it. But you came and sat next to me.

I love you.

Something corporate - punk rock princess.

Reminds me of nights drinking in garages and dancing, holding onto eachother loosely, then coming together, singing at the top of our lungs

Sr 71 - politically correct

Smelly ass neons with dead snakes rotting in them. Debates over what the best part is. Car rock.

Kill a kitten - stephen lynch.

Reminds me of sitting in the S.S. Skylark pirate ship. Rocking out and curled up with ya, laughing and singing along. And freaking out about the walken impression.

*whispers* kill a kitten. Mark my words cause from where I'm sittin. You can't go wrong if you kill a kitten.

Sing me something soft, sad and delicate. or loud and out of key. Sing me anything.

Sing for me, peacock.

I would kill for this. Just a little bit. Just a little bit.

Straylight run. Exestentialism on prom night.

Next song: the christopher walken bit for stephen lynch.

Walken really is the fucking man.

Right now, I'm at di and julie's house and I'm sitting on a balcony. In perfect weather. With dr crown in hand. Music on diems phone. You'd love this. I miss ... so many things. Why aren't you here drinking and talking about how over rated carlos santana is or how dinosaurs had the right idea with the whole carnivore thing or philosophies in the last kurt vonnegut book you read?
Fuck, ad.
And this couldn't be a worse and better songlist. These random songs on diems phone.

Stroke 9 - little black backpack
''. ''. - vacuum bag
''. ''. - kick some ass
Straylight run - exestentialism on prom night.

I remember how glycerine was the first alternative song you heard. And how that made you feel infinite and not so alone. Like you found home.

I love you, Peacock.

I just don't understand. You know how I hate that.

Sing like you think no ones listening. You would kill for this, just a little bit.