Recently I finally, being less schizophrenic enough to have the sense to try this, insisted on trying heme iron pills and ND thyroid pills after getting the runaround about the possibility for decades. Less than a month later, most of the worst constant symptoms I had which were attributed to the anti-nmdar encephalitis and schizophrenia etc etc are resolving. It isn’t the maniacal misplaced hope of improvement I used to rush into at any sign of possible lucidity. I can feel my body is alive again, my blood is oxygenated. And how many times do so many women “get checked for anemia and thyroid insufficiency and labs come back in the normal range?”

I should think more about actual horses, horsiness, and not as everything they can and do stand in for as metaphor?

no, the uniqueness of dullness is too grand a claim truly. the English are better at that. midwestern niceness or kindness standards, the complete ugliness of the colloquial drawl and flat accents, stunted colorless vocabulary. an entire region of deformed castrated pigs in a military funded livestock experiment some ignorant grunt forgot to shut down because it was so boring he prayed to Jesus Saves to carry him away on a tornado to heaven where the witches can’t go. The scary witches which is “mean” and therefore insufficiently bovine. The middle west, where the swinish folk are a hardworking friendly bacteria colonizing the can’t-bother-to-minotaur bull carcass anus of America’s horned tapeworm but not even the grace of transformative decay intervenes in the totalized nothingness parasite. Even, especially, in the cities and suburbs. An eternally reoccurring blandening, failed entropy. If God gathered up both wheat and chaff in feigned promise of leveling but chopped off, force-deleted any difference or beauty until the flesh petrified and seeded crops of pure despair dressed up as happiness, rows of the corniest corn unfit to be tossed in the trough. Unfit to be burned but afraid of all fire.