Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Flutters of a Soul

I'd like to spend all of today in bed. I'm struggling with writing, and I used to write whatever to get the flow but now I'm getting nowhere. I can't even finish a sentence I start. It's as if words want me to take some time, but I need them to comply to my whims. I have a scene I'd like to paint with words, of someone in a bath tub, paralyzed with fear of some sort so she can't move, she simply watches the droplets leaving her body. Her body won't answer the pleas of her mind to get out of there, so she's stuck with thoughts and a terrifying desire to be alone. I'm not sure how the scene ends, but that's the thing, the end sort of takes care of itself as you write and the feeling of repeating myself made that whole idea a draft that will probably never see the (virtual) light of day.
My consumption of chocolate has reached alarming levels, but I'm not one to go into the psychology of my behavior. I let that slide and simply respond to my cravings. Perhaps that's where my problem lies, not the chocolate cravings of course, but the fact that I let things slide without seriously thinking about them. I could argue and say that thinking is all I do, well that and waiting because we're all just waiting whether we realize it or not, alone or together, for the known or the unknown. The point is, some people aren't scared of where their thought leads them, but everyday I realize that I am. It could be because I surprise myself with how far I go with a thought. My character above would welcome her thoughts at that moment, she's alone and she can afford to look heavy hearted or to grin widely as she remembered something that made her happy. Perhaps what I do will have all sorts of implications. Till then, deal with life as it comes. Not that I'm in a position to give advice, even to myself. I'll change if I feel the need to, and believe me change, when it comes, it takes you off your guard.
Today I was told I'm interested in everything, because I said a certain course (psychology 101) seemed interesting. I'm not sure how my friend meant it, but it's perfectly true. I'm not sure I can claim that a virtue in any kind of way. If my interest was limited to certain things, then perhaps I'd know more. I don't act upon my interests, and isn't that a shame?
I'm going back to living in my head, that's what keeps me relatively sane. I'm not sure why I gave it up in the first place. Let's build up scenarios that will never happen, have witty conversations with questions we can never answer and dance on the meadows of nowhere; there'd be no music... I have a 'distorted image of reality'. Yet, I'm aware of more than I give away and you end up calling me oblivious.
Here, is just another place, just another time, just another soul, just another moment passing by.

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