This icy weather, failed attempts at parenting and hyper-acidity are recipes for a very depressive night. But there’s enough positivity to keep me grounded in reality, rather than allow me to slip into a morbid state. Nonetheless it’s the type of mood that prompts mass un-follows and bulk deletions of posts, but for now, I’ll resist the urge for both.
Waiting for the calm, for the ease or the breather between life’s throes continues to be a futile exercise. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a meaningful and therapeutic brain dump, but even an attempt at that leaves me staring blankly at my screen. I discovered that the secret to overcome this is to write about the blankness when staring at the screen. So this is my brain dump. A post of seeming nothingness from a brain incapable of much right now.
There’s always just one more thing before I should be at ease. Always one more thing I need to do or get out of the way, or one more thing that needs to be achieved. If only I can just get past this or just get that resolved, then I’ll be able to focus on what I need to, or rather want to. But I suspect that this same cycle of insanity is what causes people to lay in their death beds wondering where they lost sight of what was important.
The philosopher’s view of life is insensitive, although often truthful. Right now, philosophy is a cold comfort in the face of dis-ease. It’s the kind of uneasiness that rears its ulcerous head when my energy levels are lowest, and the brain clutter is highest. It’s the burden of being conscious. Not awake. Conscious. Aware. It’s tiring. Even when nothing is wrong, the realisation of how little it takes to make everything go wrong nags like an annoying itch that can’t be reached because it’s in between the skin and the bone, but not quite in either and scratching it only causes it to flare, but rarely to abate.
That’s reality. That annoying bit between the head and the heart that can’t be fully rationalised, nor fully dismissed. What a ramble of bull!