• a humdinger •

You might find it ironic
for me to describe Chronic,
a story about death and dying,
as ‘a slice of life’.
In fact, throughout,
the question of ‘why?’,
and ‘why me?’,
seems pervasive,
and unanswerable,
which it is, except, for me,
‘and why not?’,
‘and why not (me)?’,
keeps rolling through my head,
instead.
Is it just me, I wonder,
or do others see this life
as an equal opportunity
entity,
or journey,
or what have you,
and that moral judgements
as to good or bad outcomes,
or of success or happiness,
and whatnot, cannot
truly be assessed
until after the final curtain falls,
so you’ll never know it yourself,
truth be told, friend,
being dead and all?
So, it’s a question for family,
and society,
and friends,
and ‘former friends’,
and what have you,
to make the call.
And honestly, who cares
what other people think, anywhoo?
So, don’t complain;
choose to be happy,
or fulfilled, or engaged,
or grateful, or enthralled,
or stoic, or philosophical,
or selfless, or starry-eyed,
or evangelical, or ‘evolved’ –
just between we two,
it’s up to you –
whatever floats your boat.
It’s a one way ride,
and frequently fabulous.
Enjoy the view.
Oh, and on a final note,
the movie (with Tim Roth),
is a humdinger, too.
~ Tim Burchfield
6/3/16

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• hair spray •

“They say, ‘Don’t use hair spray,
it’s bad for the ozone.’
So I’m sitting in this
concealed (sic) apartment,
this concealed (sic) unit…
It’s sealed, it’s beautiful.
I don’t think anything gets out.
And I’m not supposed to be
using hair spray?”
Is it true, can it be?
That this,
coiffed kumquat,
this preening peacock,
this ham-handed,
hairdooed harlequin,
has, somehow,
been put in charge,
of the
… Presidency? Please.
Somebody ‘wake me.
~ Tim Burchfield
5/28/17

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• on ‘the other’ in me •

Such an interesting article. I also live with depressive states, and almost word for word, can identify with the descriptions of how it feels. I still go through it, but once I discovered my ‘other’, and became a friend, an advocate, a soother-listener-protector to that child-like, super-sensitive, super-creative, intuitive (did I mention ‘child-like’, oh, yes I did…) ‘entity’, which resides, side-by-side, inside of me (but speaks only in dreams, and emotions, and whispers to me in musical phrasings, and compulsions, and desires, and cravings – basically, all of the so-called, ‘id’ stuff), and learned how to take the time to really ‘be’ with this ‘other’ and talk to him/her/it rationally, to commiserate, and to listen – really listen – and to make plans, and provisions, and promises – to make things better for he/she/it (and too, to really work to keep those promises, at least a little every day), then, slowly, but surely, I came not only to understand that these ‘waves’ of ‘depression’ are really the feelings of despair and hopelessness that any normal person would feel, if he/she/it had no ‘voice’, no power to affect change, no acknowledgement, and felt no appreciation (and little love), but that there is never any reason to feel ‘lonely’, because (if this is a real ‘state of being’ – and I am convinced that it is), one is never alone, and that the process of ‘loving’ really does, start with you/me, see? (Does this make sense/can you ‘relate’?) Hand to heart, this has been a true ‘revelation’, and a life-changing epiphany, for me. It has been about six years since I came to this awareness, and my progress has been substantial and continual, and empowering (happily).
This is the basis of my own particular ‘bi-cameral mind’ hypothesis. I really should write a book on the subject. What do you think, friends? Here is the article.
On depression: What you should know if you love someone with high-functioning depression:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/love-high-functioning-depression_us_591b3519e4b07d5f6ba6af00

• the role of a friend •

You are no friend, friend.
You only pretend to be a friend,
always with the passive aggression,
always with the snide retort.
Let me tell you about friends, friend.
Friends don’t hurt for fun,
or rip each other’s guts out for sport.
Friends don’t laugh at your pain,
enjoy your embarrassment,
exult in undermining your satisfaction,
poo-poo your gains,
remind you of your past failures,
and follies,
winnow out your weaknesses,
and worries,
all the more, to underscore.
A friend won’t hobble your confidence,
with the teasing jibe,
the unwarranted witticism,
the stinging barb,
the bad report.
That’s not the role of a friend, friend.
That’s what family is for.
~ Tim Burchfield
5/22/17

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• a mutually agreeable relationship •

In the Amazon rain forest there is a living tree; within its bark lives a parasitic plant which needs no sun – it draws its nourishment from its host, and is not visible, or even evident, but for a short time, once a year, when thousands of tiny yellow ball-shaped ‘flowers’ appear on the trunk of the host tree. On the nights when the yellow ‘buds’ are flourishing, tiny caterpillars come and eat the tasty buds. Each caterpillar has an accompanying ant who, when she gently taps on the caterpillar’s back with her antennae, the caterpillar produces a drop of sweet elixir, which the ant slurps greedily. They have a mutually agreeable relationship. The caterpillar, in turn, derives protection from predators, and the ant, a veritable moveable feast.
And then, betimes, along comes a butterfly. It’s wings are gray, but for a single brightly colored yellow ‘dot’, toward the back – a convincing ‘match’ to the yellow ‘flowers’ on the tree: as ‘camouflage’, apparently.
An entire ecosystem, within one tree. That’s what I learned, yesterday.
Oh, and, one other thing: if you are walking your dogs with the girl, and you see a big bug in her hair, politely pick the bug out before she knows what you are about, rather than pointing and shouting, “Bug! Bug!! BUG!!” (Three times fast.)
Yes, I learned that, too, alas.
~ Tim Burchfield
5/17/17

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