The Return of Philip K. Fantasy, or How I Learned to Love My Dick
OK, so we all know Philip K. Dick is the world's greatest dead science fiction author, even though he's actually not a science fiction author, he writes fantasy with science fiction props.
Life is like a Philip K. Dick novel, which is why I wrote The Mind-Warp Era, which begins with the Invisible High & continues that way, with W.C. "Lead" Leadbeater constantly stoned on weed or obsessing over VADIS, a Jung lust that destroyed his life.
Like Lead, my life has been affected by the Vast Active Destructive Intelligence System from the planet Lucifer. Her friends tried to cut me off from all women by spreading lies & rumors about me, sicced the Bozo King on me, trying to deliberately inflict psychological harm on me when I dropped acid, & in turn made a pariah of the pot head, Bulldog.
This is why Trish is so important to me. She loves me. I love her, but the side-effects of the medicine that's returning me to sanity keep me from enjoying sex with her. With anyone.
Which is why my doctor gave me the free samples of Viagra. The first time I had a wonderful experience, but it got ruined by the K. Fantasy, & in spite of the Viagra, my dick wouldn't respond 'cause, the first night I fantasized heavily about Kimothy, but the next night that made Trish Leery.
Last night, once Trish had returned from work, we discussed Fantasy, & she decided to allow it, as long as it's not limited to Kimothy. Next time, it'll be Plush Suzette, perhaps even VADIS, the one actual chance I had before Rachel ruined it. She sat in her dorm room with the bay windows, babbling about VADIS' Niceness (& O'listlessness) until, as the Horlots & Alfalfa High both wanted, I didn't pursue her. Then an acid midnight ruined Rachel, but the foxy streetwalker resurrected me from the dead with her mouth When Rachel's boyfriend, Frank L. Ferry delivered word of the hatred of the Horlots, I told him what I told Muhammad Ali: "At heart, I am Muslim. At heart I am an American artist, & I have no guilt".
Yet Kimothy induced guilt, moments of abandon that threatened to disunite the Rootboy from his wife, & shortly thereafter a visit by the K. Fantasy, though I told the deaf, dumb, & blonde girl, "busy" & shut the door on her; she's ruining our marriage. This just exacerbated Trish's anxiety, not to mention my schizophrenia & mania.
Forbiding, not just the K. Fantasy, but all fantasy, prevented the Viagra in my blood & the blood in my dick from working, but Trish & I have worked out our issues & decided to repeat the experience once the doctor phones some more Viagra in.
Kim is a dildo in my mind, & there will be multiple dildos until I can be taken off Risperdal -- do I have the Abilify to carry on? Hell yes, even though I can't sleep at night. I woke up at 2:00, 4:00, & shortly after 5:00, got out of bed around 5:20. I sleep better when I take the 3 temazepam, but I mostly do that after several sleepless nights.
With the psychological problems worked out about OD, ED should also shortly disappear. As Rabbitfuck put it, "Fantasy! Fantasy! Fantasy! He's probably in there right now, having his nervous breakdown & writing to VADIS about it!" Some crush on a phallic androgyne shouldn't have elicited such Jung lust; it was the biggest mistake of my life. As NORML Bean put it at Roxy Salmon's party, "This year, the Space Fairy's into drugs". Fuck him & fuck all that, from "we're never going to let him sleep with any of our women" (who are possessions like cattle), I went into a psychedelic joyride on Broadway, where the Lamb lay down; I saw the resurrection in a stained glass window & my guilt destroyed.
This Rachel I do not need. Or VADIS. Or Kimothy. I have my Fantasy girl now, & things are working out all right. I love my Bumble Bee Girl, lustrous lady from a sacred world.
To change the subject slightly, yesterday I read a Crittes story on Word97 by using copy-&-paste & symbolic commands to restructure the manuscript in order to make it readable. The down side is that for some reason, Outlook Express put each paragraph into a single, long line. I hope I helped the guy. The story was so-so, but perhaps it's an example of what to avoid.
I finally turned the computer off around 1/4 to 3:00. Trish called shortly thereafter. Fred came over a bit later to fix the doorbell. Trish & I relaxed to the rhythm of rhyming guitars (as Bryan Ferry put it), discussing the K. Fantasy & how it affects my dick, a compromise was reached, & now we're ready to see if it works as well another time, with all fantasy no longer forbidden, but Kim nonetheless gone bi-bi.
At last.
Life is like a Philip K. Dick novel, which is why I wrote The Mind-Warp Era, which begins with the Invisible High & continues that way, with W.C. "Lead" Leadbeater constantly stoned on weed or obsessing over VADIS, a Jung lust that destroyed his life.
Like Lead, my life has been affected by the Vast Active Destructive Intelligence System from the planet Lucifer. Her friends tried to cut me off from all women by spreading lies & rumors about me, sicced the Bozo King on me, trying to deliberately inflict psychological harm on me when I dropped acid, & in turn made a pariah of the pot head, Bulldog.
This is why Trish is so important to me. She loves me. I love her, but the side-effects of the medicine that's returning me to sanity keep me from enjoying sex with her. With anyone.
Which is why my doctor gave me the free samples of Viagra. The first time I had a wonderful experience, but it got ruined by the K. Fantasy, & in spite of the Viagra, my dick wouldn't respond 'cause, the first night I fantasized heavily about Kimothy, but the next night that made Trish Leery.
Last night, once Trish had returned from work, we discussed Fantasy, & she decided to allow it, as long as it's not limited to Kimothy. Next time, it'll be Plush Suzette, perhaps even VADIS, the one actual chance I had before Rachel ruined it. She sat in her dorm room with the bay windows, babbling about VADIS' Niceness (& O'listlessness) until, as the Horlots & Alfalfa High both wanted, I didn't pursue her. Then an acid midnight ruined Rachel, but the foxy streetwalker resurrected me from the dead with her mouth When Rachel's boyfriend, Frank L. Ferry delivered word of the hatred of the Horlots, I told him what I told Muhammad Ali: "At heart, I am Muslim. At heart I am an American artist, & I have no guilt".
Yet Kimothy induced guilt, moments of abandon that threatened to disunite the Rootboy from his wife, & shortly thereafter a visit by the K. Fantasy, though I told the deaf, dumb, & blonde girl, "busy" & shut the door on her; she's ruining our marriage. This just exacerbated Trish's anxiety, not to mention my schizophrenia & mania.
Forbiding, not just the K. Fantasy, but all fantasy, prevented the Viagra in my blood & the blood in my dick from working, but Trish & I have worked out our issues & decided to repeat the experience once the doctor phones some more Viagra in.
Kim is a dildo in my mind, & there will be multiple dildos until I can be taken off Risperdal -- do I have the Abilify to carry on? Hell yes, even though I can't sleep at night. I woke up at 2:00, 4:00, & shortly after 5:00, got out of bed around 5:20. I sleep better when I take the 3 temazepam, but I mostly do that after several sleepless nights.
With the psychological problems worked out about OD, ED should also shortly disappear. As Rabbitfuck put it, "Fantasy! Fantasy! Fantasy! He's probably in there right now, having his nervous breakdown & writing to VADIS about it!" Some crush on a phallic androgyne shouldn't have elicited such Jung lust; it was the biggest mistake of my life. As NORML Bean put it at Roxy Salmon's party, "This year, the Space Fairy's into drugs". Fuck him & fuck all that, from "we're never going to let him sleep with any of our women" (who are possessions like cattle), I went into a psychedelic joyride on Broadway, where the Lamb lay down; I saw the resurrection in a stained glass window & my guilt destroyed.
This Rachel I do not need. Or VADIS. Or Kimothy. I have my Fantasy girl now, & things are working out all right. I love my Bumble Bee Girl, lustrous lady from a sacred world.
To change the subject slightly, yesterday I read a Crittes story on Word97 by using copy-&-paste & symbolic commands to restructure the manuscript in order to make it readable. The down side is that for some reason, Outlook Express put each paragraph into a single, long line. I hope I helped the guy. The story was so-so, but perhaps it's an example of what to avoid.
I finally turned the computer off around 1/4 to 3:00. Trish called shortly thereafter. Fred came over a bit later to fix the doorbell. Trish & I relaxed to the rhythm of rhyming guitars (as Bryan Ferry put it), discussing the K. Fantasy & how it affects my dick, a compromise was reached, & now we're ready to see if it works as well another time, with all fantasy no longer forbidden, but Kim nonetheless gone bi-bi.
At last.
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