I’m having drug cravings. In my prison cell. And I can’t find a pamphlet.
There’s a call button I could push. But if I did, they would come to my cell and say, “That button’s only for emergencies.”
To which I’d say, “I could die from my addiction, you know? Because it’s been some years and, while my tolerance is down, my ambition has never been higher.
“Furthermore,” I’d continue, not wanting to waste the opportunity for some human interaction, “as my prison cell here in Solitary Confinement might suggest, it’s possible at times that I can be dangerous. No more so than your Department’s best thinkers, of course. Nevertheless, imagining myself walk out the prison doors right now to a handful of medication and running sneakers, well, I don’t know — it seems like things could get serious. Is there a page in your button’s manual to deal with that sometime in the next ten years?”
Having now expressed it outward, I find the craving itself is fleeting. Whether a remnant of past or another layer shed, it should be noted that the opportunity to further strip down my deficiency and replace it with positive reinforcement has successfully escaped along with it.
If the goal of Solitary Confinement is to amplify polar behaviors or socio-dissidence, you should take comfort in knowing I’m maintaining a schedule.
Though my personal shifts no longer cater to mania, there’s a predictable cycle turning each day. Most of which revolves around mail call or leads into the one hour of phone time I get every week.
An awkward electrochemical exchange always happens at mail call, when my serotonin and dopamine queue a celebration. Because at the same time they do, my adrenaline is preparing for the stress of fight or flight. The latter rush, Pavlovian, comes from anticipating the return of my institutional queries:
As the majority of my cooperative efforts to achieve homeostasis are systematically repealed, I feel my synaptic pathways processing alternate routes of signal expression — as if they’re running reality models into the future to test the boundaries and outcomes of resource manipulation in a manner that benefits me independently, while simultaneously seeking eco-equilibrium in whole. ( It should be noted of the scenarios modeled that their benefit potential is subjective.)
This leads in to some interesting thoughts on how the calculus of gene expression may correlate with neuro-plasticity, and whether a language exists among ecosystems that parallels communication on the conscious exchange.
But I don’t have a library. And Ellen is on. So — whatever, I guess…
4-22-20 14:45