a cacophony of colors

 Now that my banks are overflowing with pozitoodinal energy and the negativity has left me like a bad clam (yuck) I thought I’d share the below with you.   I wrote it a while ago…  

 Closing my eyes the connection is complete
Electricity flows from my head to my feet

Colorful and vivid the sparks start to fly
I only can seem them after closing my eyes

The colors and sound I can finally see
Deafening and blinding they appear only to me

The blinding light is coming from inside
Like the voices I hear, then I try to hide

How do you hide from the things inside your head
Make them stop, kill them, make them dead

The colors so bright, it’s so fucking loud
I want to be floating up high in the clouds

It’s too bright I gotta open my eyes
Don’t listen to them they are all telling lies

So here I am emotionally feeling like poop on a stick  – not loving anyone and hating the mutha fuckers who broke into my restaurant and stole my computer system when I remembered that I was asked to do an interactive presentation to a group of TBI (traumatic brain injured) victims the next day.  Shit, I had nothing prepared and was not in the mood to do anything.  You know, one of those daze where you just want to curl up into a ball, pull the covers over your head and hope no one finds you for a month.

So, I had agreed to talk about being in the pizza restaurant biz.  My gut told me these folks would be less interested in how a balance sheet works or how I juggle paying one vendor while pushing off another vendor for another week.  Gotta love small business, got hate small cash flow.

So I come up with this idea that I will teach them about dough.  Not dough as in cake $$$$, but dough as in make the pizza outta dough.

I show up and have a group of about 12 folks plus their case managers.  The ramifications from the TBI with these folks ranged from showing no physical signs of TBI to tremors and a difficulty communicating. 

So I introduced myself and asked them if they liked pizza (a gimme question – everyone likes pizza – (Note:  if you don’t like pizza you have either – never had a good pizza, were traumatized as an infant with pizza or some kind of commie-pinko, neo-right wing, polygamist.)

Back to the show – so I floured up some dough and gave everyone a piece of dough and began to step them through how to spread the dough to make a pizza.  What ensued was sure beauty. 

There was one person who did it perfectly – better than a few folks that work for me.  I found out later that they had significant kitchen training before her injury.  In a cruel twist of fate the TBI has left them without the sense of taste or smell.  How fucking unfair!

Other folks had varying degrees of success.  One person I loved – demonstrated significant physical tremors and spasmodic movements, but damn they did a great job of playing with the dough and the smile on their face warmed even this icy, miserable heart.

As we played with the dough it was amazing to watch each of them engage at different levels parts of their brain/memory that pizza connected too.  The funniest moment came when I turned around only to find that one of the folks was wearing the dough as a hat and a couple other people were having the time of their life adding more dough to the hat.  It was priceless.

It also served as a good reminder  to me that I am pretty lucky.  Sure I piss and moan about stuff when i get overwhelmed and my batteries are low.  No one ever said it is going to be easy.  

Mikey E – your note was, too say the least, was a beacon of brightnes in my otherwise darkest of days.  You know from the day I met you I believed in you.  You are truly gifted and I am sooooooo fucking happy that things are falling the right way for you.  Let me know when you are up this way again….I got a bottle of Patron with our names on it.  A little bonfire on the property with senor patron at our side…..shit maybe we’ll light the fire with some old AIG and GM stocks…

Efenz – the rock will be scaled soon.  No can quit…it ain’t part of the plan

meredith – amen sister! If i wasn’t where I was I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to spend sometime with the TBI folks.  Thanks for sending me some light – it put my pozitoodinal banks over the top.

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1 Comment

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One response to “a cacophony of colors

  1. Doesn’t the word cacophony sound like the leaving of a bad clam?

    Nice work, Brother P. There’s something so wonderfully metaphorical about the image of brain injured people molding dough, figuring out what else can be done with this useless mass of matter… the flour kind, or the grey.

    We always find the words when we need them… I truly believe that…

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