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what a tangled web of words and pus

February 17, 2010

The hippocampus is a funny thing. It’s the memory center on the sides of our brains tied into the nervous system. Currently, I am using muscular memory (which often operates independently from the hippocampus) to type fluidly. My hands are so attuned to the motions that a sentence results in my fingertips leaping ahead with the synaptic charge, missing the meat, and arriving pre-ejaculated at my final thought.

Physical memory relates to the saying, “It’s like riding a bicycle. (You never forget.)” I’d like to take concept and talk about the substance of remembering information, the actual flexing of memory itself. The flex has to become a practice. I used to be a champion speller, remembering where i goes before e except after c. The less I use my vocabulary, the more basic details of words become forgotten. The other day, I couldn’t pin down spelling “Broccoli.” My duty to myself, as a student of life, is to keep on learning.

Just writing helps put that flex to practice. Another strategy to keep on improving, while reading, is listing words I don’t know the definition of, or words that I like but never use. – Irised! Flotilla! Consolidate! Cupola! Surmise! Apparatchik!

Thus far in this process I am pleased to be propositioned by perfectly perky terms to put some pepper in my prose. As a child, one of my favorite uttered terms was PATHETIC. If someone couldn’t give me an airplane ride or a pizza for dinner, in an exaggerated enunciation, “PA-THHHHe-TIK” was the ever-scathing scornful remark reducing the lowly being to rubble. Instead of the month-long or year-long obsessions of youth, I have the weekly fads with a particular ways of saying things.

Words, words, words. Too much fluff to get to the point. The point being… I had a literal recent brush with the verdure of Santa Monica Mountains that resulted in nothing less of a disaster. I mildly exaggerate but when sleep is forcefully paused and shrill annoyance runs amok, this is a problem.

Cue spooky classical music….. I was kissed by poison oak.

The legs became a purulent yellow, itchy, bright glaring red, not-hot mess. NSFW pictures coming up ahead if you haven’t peeked already. Mayhaps, you’re asking, “I understand how words and memory connect. What about words and poison oak?” Well, I learned the ultimate, bestest, most perfect word to describe the experience of yellow pus running down from the blister gashes dotting my shin, (a special thanks to the cyst from “A Serious Man” by the Coens) SEBACEOUS: “containing an unusual amount of oil or grease.” Go on and add it to your vocabulary repertoire. It’s been marked and placed in my head library for eternity. You can use it to describe a greasy (sebaceous) burger, America’s use of oil (these sebaceous gas-guzzling S.U.V.s) or Haley’s unshaven legs covered in pus (one hell of a drippy hairy sebaceous sight).

A Purulent Angry Mess

Sebaceous kisses thar

TIP: Wear pantaloons in the woods.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Kerri permalink
    February 18, 2010 12:07 pm

    Ooozy ouchie! My favorite line, “pleased to be propositioned by perfectly perky terms to put some pepper in my prose” the alliteration.

  2. February 20, 2010 3:20 am

    I concur on just writing to flex memory… at times I find myself pausing and rummaging through the cobwebs for that word I’m looking for. Sometimes I emerge still not having a clue. Once that word was ‘undesirables’….can you believe that?’

    I can… too many words in my own head now to just grab the right one that is floating by sometimes.

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