starving hysterical naked
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,”
Ginsberg’s opening line of H O W L has seared itself into my brain. Not only do I have that on a t-shirt I bought at City Lights, but I also re-visit those words almost daily as I process the crazy world around me. I won’t deny my own history in claiming this as some fulfilled prophecy. Early in my life I was tagged with a high IQ. Fine. Where did that get me? Sure I aced tests, got into great colleges, attended, graduated, and then tried with every fiber of my being to forge a path and find a place in this world. But when I turned 20-something, I suffered major clinical depression. Years later, I was re-diagnosed with bipolar II – a lighter, more functional side of bipolar disorder.
Why share this with the world? Why, indeed. I think that some of the best minds of history prove something interesting. Broad sweeping thought, while beautiful and inspiring, carries with it the potential cost of sanity. Ignorance is bliss…so true. Abraham Lincoln, Princess Diana, Winston Churchill prove this. In order to possess broad visions, one must be empathetic; however, sometimes the empathy does overwhelm.
One of the symptoms of a hypomanic episode is to experience racing thoughts. I’ve had this happen and it is simply described as supernatural. It can lead to both positive and negative outcomes. As a writer, I liken it to Kerouac’s Benzedrine trips. I’m overcome with energy and it snowballs from one unfinished, random thought onto another. They come fast and clear; I feel connected with the universe and guys like Blake and Wordsworth are geniuses. The thoughts may lead to some solution for world peace, or on the other hand, that idea may seem so completely impossible and all of a sudden I am surrounded by the evidence that suggests we are in the end of days.
The world is terrifyingly beautiful all at once and I feel that I am touching the pure power of its duplicity. That is hypomania, being rendered starving hysterical naked all in a few seconds of that mental spiral. Ginsberg witnessed repression in many forms from career frustrations to the struggles in his private life. Yet, as the poet, he was able to spiral from his own experience and see societal and global struggles too. We all have this same potential, however, how often do we allow ourselves to fall into the spiral, dangerous and fascinating as it is. TV and all of today’s modern, instantaneous bling is so much safer and easier to succumb to. Do I ruminate on romantic poetry or do I watch a re-run of X-Files? X-Files, baby! There is some deep thought, only interrupted by ads, for you! Don’t get me wrong, Chris Carter is a talent and I miss that series like I miss a good lover! But, what of my own stories to tell? Nah, TV is too fun! And, thank goodness for LOST and Battlestar; my X-Files replacements! Pop culture collides with high culture and I dance in the fabulous fireworks, starving hysterical naked.
So let this suffice as my little eHOWL for now.
Leave a Reply