Spark of Synapses

It's a difficult task to write when emotions are more fluid. It's a difficult task to write anyway, I have never been one to say that it comes naturally to pretend that I have an idea of what the sentence will be before I insert a period. As always, paradoxes exist and whether I am one or whether life is one; I think I will never know. It is with increasing curiosity and decreasing limits that I encounter questions like these in my everyday passing of minutes. I should stress the word 'passing' because it seems that I live those moments post hoc. Just like my sentences. This is what I enjoy in writing although I'd be lying if I said that this is what excites me about my own life. It is never the journey, it's the destination. An irrational thought I disagree with but I formulate my whole life around. Maybe I shouldn't  be writing with an emotionally stable mind, it seems that it drives me to peaks of...sparks of.. loops. As always, this is a message to me

It might feel like something you know but it's completely different. It's out of your hands again; the control. You've lost it somewhere along the way and the only martyr is your ego. Or maybe yourself. Probably you've been in the same situation before but this one feels like it has changed somewhat. Maybe a more advanced method of madness scribbled in ink on your pia mater. ~ Some words may never lose a meaning and might not even gain one. There will be there to remind you of the unattainable and unjust past, present and future while you lie down pretending you're someone else. Pretending that what goes through your head is a progress.  

The return. I could try to show you or sit down for hours with you and recite the adventure of what life has been or should have been or would have been. There's only one truth though. Even though the clock keeps ticking and those holy levers keep turning, I have changed as much as I have not and I've grown as much as I have shrunk. A constancy that is hard to abide to in a rational kind of sense but it's unavoidable in the fascinating width of nature, I suppose. There would be no sense in naming or shaming or blaming. Except if the mirror is placed at an angle that is appropriate for the particular perception of that past moment and of that past or ever present You. Caleidograms and holograms, astrolabes and planetariums- maybe random words thrown together or maybe just insanity paraphrased into sentences with peculiar and distinct meanings. I shall not bore you with the entity of being or who the being has been or what the being has done. I shall not influence th