Morph-Field

A man of sport on Earth begins to unfurl his mind while exploring the psyche-nuance of performance-enhancement for a (dark) view of jitters.

A sports culture superstition yarn. Thanks so much for reading (and Happy Xmas!), 

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I was a junior ice-hockey coach and football cards collecting fan/merchant in the American Homeland when I started having unusual dream-sleep visions of being contacted by a video-game antiheroine sorceress character who frightened the living-daylights out of me, casting me as her (private?) Earthling messenger of sportsmanship lifestyle gone (incompletely!) astray (Facebook-like?).

SORCERESS: You'd been a boy-years fan of my games dominion and knew of me?

ME: I knew of you, bad lady...but what does this concern me as an adult now?

SORCERESS: Well, let's say you're a dutiful Earth-culture diplomat for my words!

ME: Words.

SORCERESS: I'm a messenger of the dark side of the universe, sport man (ha).

ME: Words.

SORCERESS: As a coach and football cards/image fellow, you're versed in Hell.

ME: Hell.

SORCERESS: As a sport man, you're aware of the darkness of steroids?

ME: Steroids?

SORCERESS: You dream of contests; performance inclines mark ambition ends.

ME: Ambition (sure!).

SORCERESS: Let's say I'd like to move you to a state of success-stories paranoia.

ME: Paranoia, bad lady?

SORCERESS: I'd like you write a cyber-tale about incomplete-bureaucracy arts!

ME: Steroids governance/dialogue for Western/American superstitions, huh?

SORCERESS: Fail not in this task of omens of capitalism, sport man...good luck.

ME: Wow, I thought video-games were for kids (Facebook-like!).

I woke from this dream-state in a panic and worry and gave up coaching and football cards to become a full-time writer in my Homeland-Jersey townhouse studio of sorts, in a prototype suburbia area (Echelon), where I'd ink special paranoia-prose about the use of steroids that would alter the Earthling physique and physics of competition consciousness and success-rate humilities. Geez, I thought I could tie steroids to gene cloning or those bizarre Soviet experiments involving the generation/rearing of super ape soldiers for battlefields of pure Hell (wow). I wondered if our Earthling capitalism race vanities bred in us special treasure/insurance hypnosis for even human organics manipulation for wrought ends of power (and self-ruin). This was not Facebook-like (sure).

PSYCHIATRIST: You've been indulging in Friday the 13th: Part VII (Netflix)?

ME: I've become somewhat obsessed with magical powers and physique-frailties.

PSYCHIATRIST: How long have you contemplated the dangers of steroids, friend?

ME: Well, this Jason psycho zombie film features a heroine with telekinesis/IQ.

PSYCHIATRIST: You're identified with this heroine-psychic challenging Jason?

ME: Maybe I've been fantasizing about oracle-women negotiating mutations?

PSYCHIATRIST: Mutation.

ME: Alterations of the spirit for normative values of Earthling goals/sanity?

PSYCHIATRIST: Sounds like you're exploring the borders of human jolly, friend.

ME: Facebook-like?

Well, my shrink seemed to know how to help me now (wow). I was perhaps negotiating my own psyche-obsession or fantasies of self-transformation or success-rate hypnosis as I tried to ink these 'faerie-tale' omens of the dark side of performance spiking for sports/competition vanity (damn). Did that video-game sorceress dream-vision/chat draw me to some real-world Earth-realm darkness of incomplete-bureaucracy arts for the manmade frailties of (simple) jokers? What would I invent or conclude now?

WAITRESS: Fresh Windy City pizza, friend!

ME: Jersey?

WAITRESS: Well, we have a kitchen-pal who loves Chicago (ha).

ME: You remind me of someone, good lady (hmmm).

WAITRESS: Someone who visited you in a dream?

ME: Yes, in fact (wow!).

WAITRESS: What did this stranger lady tell you in your dream, friend?

ME: She moved me to write something about the human body medicine (sports).

WAITRESS: Steroids?

ME: Yeah, how'd you guess that, good lady?

WAITRESS: Hey, you never know who's waiting on ya...maybe I'm that sorceress.

ME: Geez...I suddenly feel goosebumps.

WAITRESS: Enjoy your jagged pizza, friend.

ME: Facebook-like (damn).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)