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| Deep Thoughts | ||||
| My mind has felt foggy lately, like being lost in a maze, or a David Lynch movie. I'm not depressed or downcast, just disassociative. This isn't like the beginning of the summer when I holed myself into my room for days and the computer waves turned my skin a flourescent glow. No, this isn't like my Vicodin binge two falls ago; one of the more boring periods in my life where I just downloaded music all day and lost my friends. This is different because I'm standing at the cliff of a catastrophe. | ||||
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| Thoughts swallowing thoughts. At 6:00 in the morning you'd expect the continuous, frantic inner voice to grind to a slow and steady crawl. It won't. It doesn't matter if you're hungover and walking home in the bitter cold. Or filling milk in the dairy cooler at work (at which I've spent the last few hours). Even the jukebox in your head has some shitty song stuck on replay. And that's when youv'e reached black and white. | ||||
| Early mornings combined with a lack of sleep have a tendency to clear the mind and bring out the best out of each of us. It's that rare, pivotal moment of sobriety where the failures and mis-directions in life are exposed, while the meaning of life seems so clear and lucid. It's the point when you stop and go "What the fuck am I doing with my life?" and then reflect upon and yearn for simplicity and purpose. | ||||
| Then you sleep. And when a catastrophic personality collapse appears subdued, you soon find yourself in the same ruts, the same patterns, the same choruses. | ||||