So I usually wake up at 7:30 every morning with a stomach ache. This is probably from all the unintentionally hard thinking I do every night into the oddest hours of each morning. My days are either extreme or incredibly unremarkable and range from life decision-making to pounding my fist on a table upon discovering that no, I really cannot decide which two gelato flavors I should get. The days usually start out slowly with two eggs, hopefully some cheese, toast, and three or five strawberries (even numbers won't do). If nothing strikes me metaphorically (or sometimes literally) across the face whilst I perform my morning activities, I usually go on to accomplish nothing and do so with such a "heart-on-sleeve" lack of ambition that scares off any morning action-seekers. Once I have bored away any potential morning suitors, I take a standing nap after a simple carbohydrate-filled lunch and continue with usual afternoon activities. Dinner happens, evening parties happen, and then I come back.
And this is when it happens. Whoever the lucky or unlucky person is who I decide to speak to on Facebook or on the phone has, at this point, unknowingly sent me into a spiral of thought and cogitation. To this day I do not know what starts me off a' pumpin, but something about the blackness of the night allows me to think my thinkiest thoughts. Days remain relatively unproductive as I subconsciously yearn for nighttime and all of the emptiness it has to offer to a mind found claustrophobic by day. I say this while realizing how dangerous my mind is, how I really should stay in the sunlight, and how I should never start conversation with not-so-close friends after 9 p.m.
So this is essentially what happens: I halfheartedly make decisions while the sun is out, go out, dance a little, come back, and then sit down and really pound them out. But wait, everyone I have just made late night engagements with will hate me, yes? Denny's really is important to some people. This is when the moral dilemmas come in. Is it my fault that I am incapable of making a committed decision at certain hours of the day? Rather, that I am solely capable of making proper ones at another certain hour of the day? I have told people about this very specific process my mind goes through. But, of course that can't band-aid up all the booboos I have just re-opened after what appeared to outsiders as a "fruitful"day of decision making. People are also frightened by the werewolf that is my nighttime brain. Stepping on the sidewalk is to scaring lizards away as talking to people about my mind is to scaring humans away (now, re-read that to take it all in). Some people view this as my having a "grass-is-always-greener" complex, my over analyzing and such. I see it as Thesaurus.com being friendlier to me only at times when humans no longer care that I just found the proper words and syntactical structure to express my insides on the outside.
Stream of conscience post? Absolutely. Sorry it had to be the first one after a period of non-posting. I do my best, and I am sure that a brimming maximum of four people will read this. Score.
And this is when it happens. Whoever the lucky or unlucky person is who I decide to speak to on Facebook or on the phone has, at this point, unknowingly sent me into a spiral of thought and cogitation. To this day I do not know what starts me off a' pumpin, but something about the blackness of the night allows me to think my thinkiest thoughts. Days remain relatively unproductive as I subconsciously yearn for nighttime and all of the emptiness it has to offer to a mind found claustrophobic by day. I say this while realizing how dangerous my mind is, how I really should stay in the sunlight, and how I should never start conversation with not-so-close friends after 9 p.m.
So this is essentially what happens: I halfheartedly make decisions while the sun is out, go out, dance a little, come back, and then sit down and really pound them out. But wait, everyone I have just made late night engagements with will hate me, yes? Denny's really is important to some people. This is when the moral dilemmas come in. Is it my fault that I am incapable of making a committed decision at certain hours of the day? Rather, that I am solely capable of making proper ones at another certain hour of the day? I have told people about this very specific process my mind goes through. But, of course that can't band-aid up all the booboos I have just re-opened after what appeared to outsiders as a "fruitful"day of decision making. People are also frightened by the werewolf that is my nighttime brain. Stepping on the sidewalk is to scaring lizards away as talking to people about my mind is to scaring humans away (now, re-read that to take it all in). Some people view this as my having a "grass-is-always-greener" complex, my over analyzing and such. I see it as Thesaurus.com being friendlier to me only at times when humans no longer care that I just found the proper words and syntactical structure to express my insides on the outside.
Stream of conscience post? Absolutely. Sorry it had to be the first one after a period of non-posting. I do my best, and I am sure that a brimming maximum of four people will read this. Score.
No comments:
Post a Comment