Brain Matter, Real Life Horror, Poetry, Personal Thoughts...

I was working on writing this in stages throughout parts of Thursday and now it has tuned into early morning Friday and I am currently feeling better than when I started it, but I figure I might as well finish it for whatever my own reasons are. Despite the time it takes, sometimes writing out my thoughts helps matters (at least some of the matters inside my own brain). I was having one of those days where I felt somewhat upset for no obvious reason and maybe it's partly Winter induced and maybe my mind is exaggerating things and maybe I'll delete this post soon (or make it only visible to myself). Most of this is feeling-based and temporary. I've had a fairly productive week by my own personal standards, read some poetry, wrote my first two new poems of this New Year (after not writing much the last few months and starting to feel rather worried that my creative passion was ebbing and my writing style was shrinking and I was becoming too normal and dull). I also completed a new collaborative poem with j/j hastain and revised an old collaborative poem with j/j, all of which are very good things in my mind, regardless of how other people do or don't feel about them. But my own poems also might have inadvertently contributed to my upset feelings, because I don't dash off happy light hearted words, and sometimes my poems involve "poetry research" on disturbing subject matter. And real life disturbing subject matter is way more horrific than blood-drenched gory horror flicks in my mind. And the poem I finished a few days ago initially derived from a movie I watched last weekend that ended up resulting in me researching some disturbing stuff for days (stuff that I already knew about to an extent but hadn't thought about in recent years or had temporarily sort of forgotten about). The short version is that my research involved mental institutions in the past and lobotomies. I wasn't sure why my research and my poem were bothering me so much (well other than the fact that lobotomies are incredibly disturbing - but they're mostly a thing of the past - and they're not related to me personally), but not long after finishing the poem, I was emailing a poet friend who I hadn't emailed for a few months, telling him about my latest poetry chapbook, telling him about having completed my first new poem of this New Year, and while telling him about that, it got me thinking... I thought that my upset-ness might be partially related to a past health issue of mine that resulted in a stroke/brain damage, mild aphasia, and seizure side effects. I'm relatively fine now and/or used to who I have become. But when I was reading about electroshock therapy (which basically electrically induces seizures) and how its "most common adverse effects are confusion and transient memory loss" (which are part of my side effects following a seizure), that elicited some discomfort as to why anyone would want that induced. But what is MUCH MORE uncomfortable is that in mental institutions in the past, it often wasn't up to the patients. It was decided for them and forced upon them. AND if electroshock therapy didn't work the way they wanted it to (they as in the system, not as in the patients), then what if they decided to give that person a lobotomy, which is basically like choosing to make someone personality-less and brain dead, even though there body remains alive. I wondered if some people who had lobotomies felt trapped inside themselves yet unable to personally express their feelings at all. Part of the reason I say that is because some people who had lobotomies ended up committing suicide and there must be a reason for that, feeling-oriented, brain damage-oriented, or otherwise. Even though lobotomies aren't done anymore (at least not legally) and have nothing to do with me personally, it is also possible that part of my research and related thoughts somewhat reminded me of research I'd done in the past related to aphasia (of which I have a very mild version, but my past research indicated that some people with extreme versions, caused by strokes or other brain damages, can't even talk normally at all, regardless of what's going on inside their brain, which nobody else would know because they can't express it - which to me, seems like a form of extreme horror). Not being able to express oneself at all, no matter what's going on inside your head, even though you used to be able to in the past. Thus the idea of surgically causing purposeful brain damage (via lobotomy) is an extreme horror story to me, far more disgusting than a fake horror story, because it was real. Not long after completing my email to my friend, I then started working on another poem, using bits from a poem-in-progress that had been sort of random and that ended up turning into an unobvious, indirect, but more personal connection to the previous poem. I'm very happy I completed two new poems, but whether or not this is fair... sometimes putting emotional energy and time into my poetry (which is of course my own choice and what I passionately choose to do) causes me to feel more annoyed, angry, and even pissed off at how many people don't seem to express themselves on an individual level at all and just post memes and clichés and other people's words (which is of course their choice). Other people don't have to care about my personal thoughts/feelings/ideas or poetry, but I can be bothered by their impersonal clichés. Granted nobody has to express themselves personally on online social media sources, but sometimes I wonder if some people barely express themselves personally anywhere at all. I have significantly toned down expressing myself personally online as much as I used to (other than via my poetry) and that is my personal choice for various reasons, but one small reason is it seems like there's nowhere good to do so anymore. I used to do so on blogs (and still do to an extent, such as HERE), but I don't think blog forums get anywhere near as much attention as they used to in the past. I used to do so more on facebook, but facebook's lay out has become increasingly geared towards Smartphones (and continually scrolling up and down to quickly glance at memes and photos and short text-length phrases and respond quickly or with emojis). A post this long probably either won't show up via Smartphone scrolling or will look like some damned novella on a phone. So anymore when I do write one of my long posts, I figure I'm mostly just writing it for myself, which is fine, because it's sort of like an online journal (and I can re-read it/re-examine it later, if I so choose). But it still bothers me on a variety of levels that online communication (and perhaps even real life communication) in recent years has become increasingly toned down (mentally watered down?) into rather quick and impersonal. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's what it seems like to me. Even in regards to sharing poetry on facebook (or blogs), maybe I'm wrong about this too, but it seems to me that in order for it show up and possibly get much attention (even from other poets), it needs to involve a photo, so you need to take a photo of or scan your own (or someone else's) poem in order to increase the likelihood of other people even seeing it, let alone reading it. But to me, poetry is about WORDS, WRITTEN EXPRESSION, and READING. I usually share a few lines from the poems (mine or other people's) and a link to where one can read more and even most of my poet friends don't seem to see most of those posts. I don't want to feel like I have to include a photo with everything I post if I want it to get any attention. I like some photos, but I also like LOTS OF WORDS.