Apparently the contention between me and my corporeal entity has progressed to an extreme state. I awoke to a relentless pounding upon the door, where, to my shock, I was served with legal papers: a suit brought by my genetic envelope against me, claiming mistreatment, neglect and abandonment! My own corporeal form! Not revenge - betrayal. I am red with rage.
Actually, that is a misstatement, since the corporeal wrapper is required (as far as I know) to manifest the flushed colors of rage. And, to my knowledge, emotion sits in the body - so how can I be accused of abandoning it? If I had, surely my experience would be free of the confusing, distracting, intoxicating and tormenting parade of emotions which characterize physical life. But I am far from that - and thus, far from abandoning my earthly form! So, what about that, R. J. Llellewyn, Esq.? Huh?
So now I enter into the earthly hell of legal disputation. This is where Kafka was born! Better I had awoken with antennae and spasmodic tibia than with a neat sheaf of legalisms veiling a vicious emotional counterpunch. Sure, I am having second thoughts. Should I have been less aggressive in my complaints as to the torpidity and opacity of my envelope? Perhaps I could be more understanding, patient, kind - make amends, go forward anew?
Yes, that sounds like a good idea. As soon as I have found a way to migrate to another envelope altogether, I will flood my former domicile with loving waves of appreciation, in which it can awake to find its resident departed and its higher centers unmanned. I'm sure that will be a much improved situation - Right, Mr. Llellewyn? If you want me, I'll be in the bar, adjacent to - or hovering above - my slumped and disfunctional form.