LUNG 2

lungs come in pairs, right? so why wouldn't writings about lungs, eh? here's what i wrote at lunchtime today--giving myself exactly 10 minutes to write, just like i did this morning. i also used a pencil instead of the computer--i think that makes a difference--it's more, i dunno, natural--a better connection between my ideas and the outside world, maybe. have fun comparing this to the first LUNG post! (anything in parentheses has been added at the time of this posting)

iron lung. aqua lung. hold your breath. a tide of air, the rythm of nature, life--a cycle behind your mind. involuntarily (conscripted) enslaved to breathing.

breath, take a breath, breath of life, with one breath, with one lung. lung is breath tool.

tool for breathing, chest heaving rising falling---->essence of lung is air------->balloon pink and meaty.

or tortured by smoking, object and target of self loathing (suicidal activity on a geologic schedule) hidden and forgotten it blackens too slowly for notice--only after death and in cross sections does it show the damage (these x-sections look like art) when it rebells it does so audibly--it speaks, it screams, it wheezes and protests.

i noticed when the skinn is peeled back...

bodies surround the visitors at the Body Worlds exhibition. (bodies in various lifelike poses as if frozen in time doing ordinary things--only theses bodies are naked down to the muscle and organs--oh, shame!) people once, these plasticised cadavers look more like thanksgiving leftovers now. the living mingle casually with the dead--or not so casually--some show visible (and audible) signs of being disturbed to various degrees. tiny bits of people are displayed in plexiglass covered cases--dust thickening on their vast clear tops (as skin is the main component of dust--i wonder if this is where the cadaver's skin has gone...) lungs once nestled behind the protective safety of their ribcages now lay exposed and tender-looking (vulnerable)--or were they prisoners in their chests, enslaved to the cycle of breathing in and out (but not endlessly, as now they have been freed by death.) now all they exhale is the plastic stench that permeates this place (their final breath, it seems) oh the lovely lung--enslaved, abused, forgotten--until it protests...

they come in pairs (i forgot!) monogomous for life--one larger and one smaller, like the male and female of the species.