I haven’t yet come to grips with reality. Cause and effect I believe in, but I’m reluctant to accept that anything I say or do has any impact. It’s easier to try not feel at all, than to admit that life has more control over me than I do of it. I’m merely a puddle from a scattered shower, so easily evaporated, licked up by passing animals, or drained into the nearest, larger, more significant body of water. My splash affects as equally as it’s vanquished by the bottom of a shoe.
At least, that’s what I’d like to believe. Thinking I won’t live long enough to see the consequences, I don’t follow the advice of my elders. I listen to loud music, read in the dark, neglect sunscreen, etc. I refuse to sacrifice present freedom for an imaginary future comfort that isn’t guaranteed to anyone.
I am not an active member of my community. I don’t vote. I don’t get regular flu shots. I don’t read the paper or watch the news. I don’t participate in holidays. I don’t like to watch sports.
I’m not attached to my possessions. It’s not that I don’t believe in thievery. I’m not naive, I simply choose to focus more on what is than what could be. I like roller coasters, and feel very strongly that fullness of life comes when disaster is not feared but embraced as a part of learning and experiencing.
I fully believe I’ll live to see the end of the world.
I wonder if I’m alone but the thought is fleeting. It’s preposterous and pretentious for someone to believe that in a world of 7 billion people- with more coming and going every second- I’m the only one capable of original thought.
My best thoughts come at 3 AM when either my broken heart is keeping me up or I’m too tired to pick up a pen. Most of my head is cluttered with debris, and so many of my trains of thought are swept away and buried again before I can catch them. They almost never make the same stop twice. Always in motion I must remain. If I let the dust and ashes of my mind settle around me I’d be buried right alongside all my forgotten dreams and half formed ideas.