I started to think�It used to be such a certainty that my heart always triumphed over my head�I have never been united, to my memory anyway. I thought it was two bodies�head versus heart. That was the on going battle that I was always up against. I am always up against. Life seems to be as if I am coasting through trying to attain something, solve something, reach some inevitable plane. A plateau where I can just be. Whatever it is that I am. Since the beginning of my being, I have always felt separate. I spent most of my time longing for companionship. Unlike the others around me I found it necessary to make testament to one�s devotion to another. Be it through physicality or the sharing of intellectual anomalies. I have an intense sense of touch, which I link distinctly to my emotional representations. There is not a solitary brush of skin, or caress, or physical manifestation that does not, almost immediately, trigger an emotional response which I profoundly trust above most else. My heart can then be said to be more than just worn on my sleeve, it is my very skin. It is this that makes me think that I am formed quite opposite that of any other I am vividly aware of. The second testament of intellect always seemed slightly less important, and always more difficult to assert. I found, for a short period between my thirteenth and fourteenth years, my head was flooded with much subject matter for contemplation. It was at this time, I thought that I could indeed change anything. I was decisively a do-gooder of my own choosing. Though I never found anyone whom shared this passion for merely existing, I was content to take what was chaotically materializing in my head and share it with those who I had adjusted physically enough with to flow out of comfort. Many nights of contemplation�never a night of defeat. I suddenly found myself without any physical comrades however, when I had become so overtaken with thought that it had in fact taken precedence over any other aspect of life. When I no longer had a port for my �knowledge� it ceased to become. Or perhaps I ceased to acknowledge it. The very sparking of passion in my life that was my thought seemed to have pushed aside the companionship I longed after more than anything. It was blamed and dismissed subconsciously. Had I been conscious of it then�? With the deterioration of the existence of my fellow human in my life, I blamed it on an overabundance of self-denials and problems that I was going to have to face. I was determined to make a sane and stable individual out of myself. I would have friends, I would have self-love. So I created one of the most analytical machines I am yet to be familiar with inside my own head. I dissected ever ounce of my existence and placed it neatly inside the drawer that would house it till this day and beyond. My father, I had discovered, had led me to develop many emotional troubles. A confused sense of love was among the many, possibly explosive issues, I thought I needed to exterminate immediately or I would cease to exist. I had been away from others for so long, living inside my head, that I had no idea this was a common issue. I only �knew� I was troubled, and set out to single-handedly defeat an entire youth of personal troubles before I had even really experienced them. I simply observed others in their natural habitats, noted all possible outcomes, and saved myself from the trouble of first-hand experience. I did not take me long until I ran out of anything to analyze. The ideas had dwindled down so severely that I had analytically reasoned which pair of socks were indeed my favorites, this would not be held for further discussion. With veritably no friends, and no problems to analyze, I did the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time. I set out to spread my myriad of knowledge meanwhile making new physical/emotional bonds. A seemingly perfect union of mental and emotional states. I was fixed and had no reason to search inside myself for new things to discover. I spent what has been the longest phase of my life regurgitating the knowledge my mind had fabricated. Then I fell from my pedestal of problem-less life. I hit the ground with a ferocious impact. I had been in love once previously, and walked away from the accident with minor scrapes and bruises. This time however, I felt as if I had lost my head, and all the knowledge I had gathered/created along the way. A problem had arisen. Even now I pause to properly describe the event. Love had become for the past few years, the meaning of life. From lonely to content I had coasted about. Just prior to my fall I tripped over a canyon of loneliness. Amidst the depression is where I first met him. He seemed something apt to focus the attentions of a crush-like-purpose-seeking individual on, a grand gimmick I had sold myself on. He was my new task. I didn�t intend to give him any strong meaning in my life. Low and behold, the wise seeker of truth and enlightenment had managed to lie to herself once more. I love him. You�ll have to bear with the shift in tense, as we have now reached the very point where I began thinking. My head and heart could not disagree more readily than they do on this issue. I am more separate now than I have been in years. Until yesterday I was still a strong believer than my heart had been winning since my beginning. I retract that assertion. All my life I�ve been crying. I thought that was the most consistant proof that my heart was forcing me to long after something that would only hurt me in the end. I was wrong. I cry because my head has been calling my heart, sometimes I think my better half, stupid for the entire duration of this journey, life. The heart has done nothing but get in the way, keep me from thinking, analyzing, knowing. It only knows emotion. As a follower of the zodiac, I am a cancer. I believe no emotional superior exists. I had done so much to discourage myself from feeling, and did nothing but encourage the negative emotion at the lack of support. The trouble I find myself in now is that my heart knows, and this I trust more than anything, that I would spend the rest of eternity waiting on this love, as it is quite half-requited, the only thing worse than unrequited. I would spend the rest of my life with him should he let me. However, my head wants no part of it. It tells me everyday to say goodbye. I know that the cons heavily outweigh the pros quantitatively in the debate to love or not love. I know this because my head would not let me forget. �He� has been trained to avoid problems, �We� know better than to live like this. There really is only one pro. But qualitatively, that one pro exceeds anything the lengthiest list of cons could procure. The head knows nothing about love, but like the protective big brother it has been personified as, �His� only soft spot is for �His� little sister, the heart. My head has always been in control, my heart just hasn�t had a strong enough argument to convince my head the pain was worth it,until now. I know I can�t let my heart take over, because without the guidance of my thoughts, my true strength, I would never be able to make it out alive. My head has come so close to putting �His� metaphorical foot down and ending the whole thing, only to find that I fall into a deeper depression than I have ever known. Every time I try to let myself move on, my heart just cries and cries. So the only thing I can bear to do is, for the first time in my life, create a �Me.� I have become so familiar with two separate states of being that the new territory of a united self seems impossible. Like Buddha, I seek the middle path. The idea is so foreign I, as of yet, fail to fully grasp its meaning. I know I am not saying goodbye to love, and I know I will not be love�s doting slave. The rest is unfamiliar to me. It has taken two films to awaken the resolve to think things out this far. The first of the films came in the way of an oman. Skeptics may scuff now. I had attempted to download one film and was at first
disgruntled to open the file and find another. Towards the end of the first film, however, it hit me that this was exactly what I had needed to awaken the passion in response to the nay-saying. The second film, �Waking Life,� forced me to think about life, the journey, the purpose. One film opening the floodgates to the heart, the second the green light to the oncoming traffic of thoughts. A night of extremes from both states, for the first time united in an experience. I may not as of yet have the answer, but I most definitely have a new start line to the proverbial rest of my life. |