-Mobile continuation from Xanga blog PinkyGuerrero
-Most of the graphics and vids click to sources.
-Personal blog for Janika Banks.
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Monday, August 8, 2016

Land of the Lost Sugar Skulls

I'm having the kind of headache that can't be ignored with minecraft, can't be soothed with chocolate, won't allow me to enjoy reading or watching or listening to anything, and is getting worse when I lay down in the quiet darkness.

So here I am! My glabella is saying tell them I said hi, and my infraorbital foramen (foramens?) and superior orbital fissures are waving cheery hellos.

I'm not going to share from the gang behind the coronal suture, because they're drags and want you all dead and the world to wither up and die.

I love sugar skull art. This pic clicks out to a whole list of artwork available for purchase.

Actually living in a skull is weird, right? I mean, we carry a skull around with us at all times without even thinking about it. Well, I think almost nonstop about it because I've been able to feel mine so vividly for so long. And then brains are even weirder to think about, like are we in them, or actually the brain itself or just using it as a 4D interactive machine in order to be able to experience 3D space, or what? I don't feel like I am my brain, but I do feel like it talks to me and takes care of everything while I don't know what's really going on. Don't worry, I'm not going to post pix of color-coded brain parts.

I grew up with skull art in the desert southwest, but it was mostly cattle skulls back then. We lived on a small farm in New Mexico next to a guy who owned big acreage and sometimes had longhorn cattle around, and I remember the first time I ran into a real longhorn skull out in the desert while I was running around his property. I was alone, just standing there staring at it, thinking how different it looked from the longhorn skulls I saw on TV, and I touched it and picked it up and played with the bony structures a bit to see if they'd break. I was used to seeing decapitated heads from butchering sheep and chickens, but I'd never touched just a skull before without all the blood and eyeballs and heavy lingering warmth left in the skin.

I decided at a pretty young age that I am not my arms, they are not me. They are attached and I can feel them and make them do things, but I clearly live in a machine. I'm not 'down there' where my arms are. I'm up in my head, behind my eyes, and my eyes are like tools I use to get information. But am I really 'in' my head?

I don't mention this much, but I have brought up in the past that I 'float out'. I never had to learn it or practice, have always just done it since I was tiny. I don't know if it's a result of a near death experience (I overdosed at a very young age, and remember everything about it up until I went unconscious), or very high fevers (lots of those, unfortunately), but I used to drift 'out' without even thinking and had to learn to control it. I know that perspective is a matter of quantum locality, and that our perspective about who and where we are is mostly illusory.

All the same, I am connected to this skull and it is having a headache. I am sharing an experience with a machine, or a host, or an entity much like a horse (if I am the rider or occupant). My head doesn't like the headache any more than I do. I've learned over time how to help my body feel more comfortable, and therefore I do, too. It's logical to care for one's whatever this is that we live in, feels weird just referring to it as a body. It is unique and its existence is every bit as important as my existence as a soul. It and I suffer together as I experience all the things I came here to learn. I've had a feeling for a long time that if there is any kind of grading scale later, how we treat our own bodies might weigh as heavily as how we treat animals and each other. If we are mean to our own bodies on purpose or out of negligence, it doesn't feel right to say we are good people, you know? I decided as a teenager that self flagellation in any form doesn't make sense when we are trying to be good people.

Ah, you bring up, but what about self sacrifice? Fine, yes, I'm going to skip over all the anthro-psych discussions about group being more important than self blahblah. Some self sacrifice is necessary, some is nice, but too much or weird forms of it can be symptomatic of psychological imbalances, so I'm not going there, ok? I have a headache.

I want a cookie. That clicks to lots more neato.

I've had some pretty outstanding headaches in my life (worst lasting 6 weeks), so this one is hardly bothersome, although it did stop me from functioning for awhile today. Between allergy season, weather changes, and med changes, I'm probably lucky I'm not begging someone for a pain shot, and I'm still able to look at stuff on the internet. The really bad ones don't let me use my eyes at all. Anyway, I think I've distracted long enough to get moving again, and I think the first direction I'm going is a cup of tea and something to eat, and the maybe try the TV. I'm still paused in the middle of Land of the Lost from the other day. I've been sharing my love of this movie on twitter since 2013. I saw every ep of the original series, have the original TV series theme song on a CD, and have tagged in blogs herehere, and here, and I'm pretty sure other places too, but they're just not tagged. Also probably more buried in my facebook photos, if you're super bored and wanna dig around, because I have some really fun stuff in there.

If you are really extra special super bored, here is the first show of the original series, and it's up to you to find the rest.

And one of my very many fave scenes. The entire movie is super fave, and I could go on forever, so here you go, I need food and the real deal. By the way, got it CHEAP in a movie bin at Walmart last week, so there's no excuse, guys.

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