The Inferno of Oz: A Gimpy Monologue

By Joseph Casarez

Imagine walking through the yellow-brick road; you’re hopping, skipping and don’t have a care in the world for the world or the problems in it.  It’s just you and this feeling of careless joy.  You’re off to see the wizard who will dispel the irritating problems that you have accumulated from past actions; financial debt, conflicts with friends and family, self-deprecation.  This fantasy may last for days or even two hours.  The Emerald City is always in sight, but never reached, you realize there is also a fog chasing you; you are afraid to have it envelop you because it brings you  down to a dull center.  When you grow tired and have no energy to run and skip, you succumb to the fog.

In the fog, people seem frightening and there is no joy and fun.  You feel sapped of vitality, unable to pick yourself up.  It’s difficult to understand because it all of a sudden; it attaches itself to you like a parasite sucking your life force.  The yellow-brick road crumbles into the river of Styx, trudging through the mud.  What people say becomes suspicious and filled with malicious intent.  You’re not thinking clearly and rationality sounds foreign to your brain; the fog seduces you into slumber for what feels like a century or two.

This is what it feels like in my mind.  Between Oz and Hell, lies a fragile Purgatory where there is a rigid structure of stability; but like all rigid structures it falls eventually and the winds of Oz swoop down to carry me into the wondrous castle of forgetfulness while the mists of Hell desires to wrap its tendrils around my being.  Where did the normal me go?

 

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3 thoughts on “The Inferno of Oz: A Gimpy Monologue

  1. Does the idea of the Bardo work for you? I find the concept helpful when thinking about the world of disability. Thanks for letting us outsiders into your thoughts and a bit of your life.

    1. You know, I’ve never really thought of it in those terms, but I suppose in a way, it fits pretty well, being caught between two states. I’d love to hear how you frame this up though. drop some insight on that. And as always, thank you for reading

  2. I have long imagined that the “Book of Living and Dieing” was as much about our lived experience as our after death journey. The mind can be a deep mystery, a curiosity, or a sort of Hell. So can culture/society. When we are forced to navigate the world and mind through the lens of disability, every task can seem daunting, every encounter dangerous. One is forced to be mindful – as much as one is able. Even so, the world seems a place of uncertainty, filled with daemons and dangers, pleasures and seductions. Desire itself can itself be maddening. Drama threatens to undo us at every turn…..

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