The Haze
Have you ever had the experience of momentarily finding yourself lost in a surreal world that seems to float by? Where you’re eyes go kind of fuzzy around the edges and time skips ahead with disregard for what you might have had planned, leaving you wondering why you didn’t get all of your stuff done. The majority of the people who are subjected to this phenomenon only experience it for a matter of minutes. Some people call it daydreaming. Jimi Hendrix got closer with “Purple Haze.” I see it as more azure than purple.
Like I said most people spend mere minutes in this state, leading to the misconception of daydreaming, and others might spend as much as a couple of hours suspended in this haze. I spent all weekend this way.
Now, don’t be mistaken. This is not a drug or alcohol induced frame of mind. This Azure Haze is natural and unexplainable. But I will try, for the sake of my faithful readers (John and Dave) who are all wondering “Can Burning Stickman save us from this dilemma?”
I’m not making any promises.
After spending two days in this Haze I came to somewhat understand how the brain induces this state, and what keeps our minds from snapping back to reality. First: you need an odd, surreal moment in order to initially induce the Haze. For me it came Saturday morning. I did not have to work so I was sleeping in. At around ten o’ clock my phone rang. It was my wife with whom I am currently going through a divorce. Here is the conversation.
Wife: “How much did you get?”
Me: (sleepily) “Get what?”
Wife: “I’m sorry for waking you. I didn’t know you had the day off.”
Me: “Well, I need to get up and get a haircut anyway.”
Wife: Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”
Me: “What?”
Wife: “Bye.”
This was the surreal conversation that woke me up on Saturday morning. My bearings were completely shot, I had no idea what was going on. I got up to make sure that nothing important was happening, like zombies walking the streets or the French invading....and what I got when I opened the curtains was a covering of snow over everything. This was another weird occurrence because two days before I had played tennis in sixty degree weather. Nothing went right from there on.
The hot shower failed to dissipate the fog that had gathered in my head like spider webs, and even a breakfast of a Western Omelet at Huddle House did nothing to unscramble my senses. I soon learned that both of the barber shops that I frequent were closed and the only choices that were left to me were beauty salons. I took the option of waiting until later to get my hair cut. So I decided to get the oil changed in my truck, which was a task I had been putting off for close to six months (I know…shame, shame). I went to Wal-Mart (insert joke of choice here) and was relieved that I was the only one in line for an oil change. I would be in and out quickly. Wrong. I walked around Wal-Mart for over an hour (which is a slow torture in itself), saw thirty-seven people I knew (on the one day when I thought everyone would stay indoors), and didn’t buy a damn thing (the one saving grace of the trip). Finally I left, and saw two wrecks on my two-mile trip home. What the hell was going on with the world? Was it just me that the Haze had chosen to cling to, or was everyone feeling a little of it too?
The rest of the day I spent sitting in my house, doing odd nothings and watching television.
Sunday: I must have completely zoned out, because I don’t remember a damn thing about it. The only thing that I remember is that I came to the conclusion that gas station cheeseburgers are the best “fast food” burgers you can get. Maybe it’s the maturing period that they go through that makes them so damn tasty. Like a fine wine. They sit under the heat lamps…one, two, maybe three hours until the bread, cheese and meat seem to meld into one being and the goodness is evenly distributed throughout the entire burger. And the wrapper. Getting to pick the melted cheese off the inside of the aluminum foil is like a whole other treat in itself.
Okay, back on track. The point is…. on Monday I realized when the alarm woke me up and I was at once clear headed and refreshed, that the Haze is a natural cleansing process. Just like we need sleep to function, every human needs to experience the Haze now and then to sort of wash out their mind. Being in the Haze is like being on autopilot. Some only need a couple of minutes of “daydreaming” to help realign their arrows in the right direction. I guess I needed a whole weekend. Makes sense when I look back at it. Things have been building up around me for a while now, and my brain just needed to take a smoke break and shove off for a while.
So if you find yourself in the Haze, don’t panic. Relax and try not to hurt yourself while your mind is taking a breather. Watch “Dude, Where’s My Car” or some other movie that doesn’t require you to think, and enjoy the hiatus.
Like I said most people spend mere minutes in this state, leading to the misconception of daydreaming, and others might spend as much as a couple of hours suspended in this haze. I spent all weekend this way.
Now, don’t be mistaken. This is not a drug or alcohol induced frame of mind. This Azure Haze is natural and unexplainable. But I will try, for the sake of my faithful readers (John and Dave) who are all wondering “Can Burning Stickman save us from this dilemma?”
I’m not making any promises.
After spending two days in this Haze I came to somewhat understand how the brain induces this state, and what keeps our minds from snapping back to reality. First: you need an odd, surreal moment in order to initially induce the Haze. For me it came Saturday morning. I did not have to work so I was sleeping in. At around ten o’ clock my phone rang. It was my wife with whom I am currently going through a divorce. Here is the conversation.
Wife: “How much did you get?”
Me: (sleepily) “Get what?”
Wife: “I’m sorry for waking you. I didn’t know you had the day off.”
Me: “Well, I need to get up and get a haircut anyway.”
Wife: Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”
Me: “What?”
Wife: “Bye.”
This was the surreal conversation that woke me up on Saturday morning. My bearings were completely shot, I had no idea what was going on. I got up to make sure that nothing important was happening, like zombies walking the streets or the French invading....and what I got when I opened the curtains was a covering of snow over everything. This was another weird occurrence because two days before I had played tennis in sixty degree weather. Nothing went right from there on.
The hot shower failed to dissipate the fog that had gathered in my head like spider webs, and even a breakfast of a Western Omelet at Huddle House did nothing to unscramble my senses. I soon learned that both of the barber shops that I frequent were closed and the only choices that were left to me were beauty salons. I took the option of waiting until later to get my hair cut. So I decided to get the oil changed in my truck, which was a task I had been putting off for close to six months (I know…shame, shame). I went to Wal-Mart (insert joke of choice here) and was relieved that I was the only one in line for an oil change. I would be in and out quickly. Wrong. I walked around Wal-Mart for over an hour (which is a slow torture in itself), saw thirty-seven people I knew (on the one day when I thought everyone would stay indoors), and didn’t buy a damn thing (the one saving grace of the trip). Finally I left, and saw two wrecks on my two-mile trip home. What the hell was going on with the world? Was it just me that the Haze had chosen to cling to, or was everyone feeling a little of it too?
The rest of the day I spent sitting in my house, doing odd nothings and watching television.
Sunday: I must have completely zoned out, because I don’t remember a damn thing about it. The only thing that I remember is that I came to the conclusion that gas station cheeseburgers are the best “fast food” burgers you can get. Maybe it’s the maturing period that they go through that makes them so damn tasty. Like a fine wine. They sit under the heat lamps…one, two, maybe three hours until the bread, cheese and meat seem to meld into one being and the goodness is evenly distributed throughout the entire burger. And the wrapper. Getting to pick the melted cheese off the inside of the aluminum foil is like a whole other treat in itself.
Okay, back on track. The point is…. on Monday I realized when the alarm woke me up and I was at once clear headed and refreshed, that the Haze is a natural cleansing process. Just like we need sleep to function, every human needs to experience the Haze now and then to sort of wash out their mind. Being in the Haze is like being on autopilot. Some only need a couple of minutes of “daydreaming” to help realign their arrows in the right direction. I guess I needed a whole weekend. Makes sense when I look back at it. Things have been building up around me for a while now, and my brain just needed to take a smoke break and shove off for a while.
So if you find yourself in the Haze, don’t panic. Relax and try not to hurt yourself while your mind is taking a breather. Watch “Dude, Where’s My Car” or some other movie that doesn’t require you to think, and enjoy the hiatus.
posted by Burning Stickman at 10:47 AM
1 comments
