I have come to the conclusion that my mind is like some kind of cosmic playground designed by Stephen King. My thoughts go 'round and 'round like a carousel going in constant circles, up and down on a horse with glass eyes. My ears echo with loud music performed by the Phantom of the Opera on an gigantic pipe organ, which hurts my ears and overwhelms the senses.
The teeter-totter goes up and down, up and down, up and down; the swings propel me forward then back again; the slide has steep steps, a quick descent; relief but then I realize I must climb the steps once again to merit the ride down; the merry-go-round goes out of control and when I manage to make it stop, I cannot stand upright but go stumbling off like a drunken sot. I run in the sand, fall and skin my knees and go barefoot on the sweet green grass, only to step in dog poop.
My mind is like being in the eye of the hurricane; calm - then suddenly a spinning vortex of all sorts of things that have been caught in the voracious wind. Thoughts spin and twist out of control, while trying to latch onto something solid, redeemable and trustworthy.
I am reminded of Sisyphus, pushing that enormous rock up the hill only to have it slide back down. Poor Sisyphus, an eternity of pushing and dodging; having hope that maybe, just maybe, one more try and that stone will fly down the other side of the mountain, and Sisyphus will no longer be a slave to his burden.
That's how my thoughts are: heavy, complicated and usually barreling back at me. Will I ever be able to conquer this fragmentation of thought?
The teeter-totter goes up and down, up and down, up and down; the swings propel me forward then back again; the slide has steep steps, a quick descent; relief but then I realize I must climb the steps once again to merit the ride down; the merry-go-round goes out of control and when I manage to make it stop, I cannot stand upright but go stumbling off like a drunken sot. I run in the sand, fall and skin my knees and go barefoot on the sweet green grass, only to step in dog poop.
My mind is like being in the eye of the hurricane; calm - then suddenly a spinning vortex of all sorts of things that have been caught in the voracious wind. Thoughts spin and twist out of control, while trying to latch onto something solid, redeemable and trustworthy.
I am reminded of Sisyphus, pushing that enormous rock up the hill only to have it slide back down. Poor Sisyphus, an eternity of pushing and dodging; having hope that maybe, just maybe, one more try and that stone will fly down the other side of the mountain, and Sisyphus will no longer be a slave to his burden.
That's how my thoughts are: heavy, complicated and usually barreling back at me. Will I ever be able to conquer this fragmentation of thought?
