Mea Umbra

Unknown Mediastinal Mass

I'm going to break my DragnMastr13 kayfabe right now to address something serious that's been happening in my life lately.

Some of you know me in real life, and you also know that I've been having strange health issues for the past few months.

Initially, I thought these were related to some kind of mysterious allergic reaction I've been exposed to, but a few hours ago I got a step closer to understanding my medical condition.

After coughing up bloody phlegm in the shower yesterday afternoon, I decided to seek emergency intervention. I was given an X-ray, and CT scan, and the ER doctors confirmed that I have a large mediastinal mass in my chest–basically, it's a tumor.

At this point the doctors don't know whether it's benign or cancerous, but I have an appointment with cancer specialists this Friday.

At the appointment, they'll perform a biopsy to confirm what I'm dealing with. And then I'll know what my medical plan of action will be. If it's cancerous, I'll need to start chemotherapy immediately.

Needless to say, I'm in a state of complete shock. I feel emotionally numb at the moment, as the full weight of everything hasn't really set in. I don't know what else to say. I'll keep you guys updated as I get more information from doctors.

It's 6:06 am, the sun's come up, and I need to get some sleep.

L.

Little Man

She owned a little man.

Not a little person little man, (although, he was little in physical stature) but one of little status and worth.

Her emasculating affections didn't seem to deprive him of his dignity though–he actually quite cherished her attention, and she cherished her little SIMP in return.

His little penile endowment was relished by her all-consuming cunt, and she endowed him with condomless sex, a justification of her intrauterine devices.

They were an odd couple, to say the least. However, they knew their roles in the pecking order, and perhaps this awareness is what made their romance most gratifying.

Expansions of a Suppressed Lung

There will be sepulchral spasms in life that will deprive you of breath–do not surrender, fight!

Endow yourself the time and space to reflect, and reincarnate!

Do not allow the apnea in these interstices strangle your lifeblood. Breathe!

Expand your lungs.

Expand your nerve.

Expand your potency.

You will inspire power, and you will use this power to force your fears into gaunt submission.

THAT

And when confronted to explain to them the meaning of the thing, The DragnMastr spoke thus:

"Do not concern yourselves with WHAT the meaning is of the thing, what matters is THAT it has meaning!"

The small crowd stewed uncomfortably in their stupefaction as He walked away from them in disdain.

Lesson: Personal meaning is most always understood in retrospect, and rarely in the present moment. Immerse yourself instead, with what makes you feel alive, while meaning ferments underfoot–you will know such things by their sticky residue. 

Treasure Troves of Self Discovery

It has been reasoned that the search for truth will lead you to beauty and understanding, but I say this: seek not truth and beauty, but absurdity and dissonance. For in its cacophony, you will cultivate attention–this is what is needed to see.

And through the sweat of salt you will excavate perception, action, and will. Buried treasures that will serve to decipher Self–revealing limitless possibilities, the depths of which will set you free. 

Thus spoke, The DragnMastr. 

Grope and Grip

The final diagnoses? Otitis media (middle ear infection), and contact dermatitis (skin rash).

This is the second time I've had otitis media in the past year, but the contact dermatitis? I mean, sure, I've had rashes here and there as a result of my sensitive skin, but one from a severe allergic reaction??

Before ultimately submitting to medical intervention, my initial investigation led me to the possibility of toxic black mold. I had discovered a small black patch growing discreetly in a corner of my fuck lair, and at once eradicated the insidious invasion. However, the fear had already entrenched itself as the poltergeist that would persecute my thoughts for the next couple of weeks.

After eradicating the toxic threat, and subsequent rounds of disinfection with the proper bleach solutions, I was still experiencing the pillaging and raping of my immune system: wheezing, severe itch attacks, rash outbreaks, itchy crawling eyes, and finally–middle ear infection, oh, and MORE hell itch!

In an attempt to self-diagnose myself, and eliminate the possibility of other causes, I licked the patch of wall that had incubated the black mold growth. My reasoning: upon licking, if my health rapidly deteriorated, I knew that the black intruder was to blame. Ensuing the licking, no real change had transpired, but I was on high alert. I was ready. But nothing happened.

The next day, after ruling out toxic black mold, I began a systematic analysis of possible allergen culprits: darkroom chemistry fumes, bed bugs, dust mites, pollen, aggressive masturbation, coffee, alcohol, abnormal sleep pattern. But my findings were inconclusive.

Eventually, after exacerbating middle ear pressure and pain, I decided to visit an urgent care clinic. The PA diagnosed me. The causes? Unknown.

Let this be a lingering lesson for all you haughty cockroaches, even The DragnMastr’s puppeteer submits to the indiscriminate grope and grip of Mother Nature.

Brilliant

Do not place them on a holy pedestal most high.

You do not own them.

You share a memory together.

That is all.

That is enough.

Focus your attention, rather, inwardly.

Fertilize and plow the soil of your soul with knowledge, experience, dedication to craft. In 10 years they will be a flickering memory, but your mastery will have become brilliant.

People will worship your greatness, with all of its sacrifices, and you will smile among the gods, alone, in great company.