I don't know what compelled me to do it but I did it. Something inside me stirred.
After many months of bringing myself back from the dead... literally. I thought I was well enough to look through everything again- think about every thing again, ponder about every thing that happened over again. The keyword here is.. I thought. I thought I was well enough. I thought I was fully repaired. Yet I knew that I shouldn't have done it. I should have waited for a better time because, quite frankly, 2 am is not the best time to make any type of decision no matter how big or small. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good" and I told her exactly what I was doing. She doesn't know the half of it. So I sat in the dark of night, thinking about everything, alone.
Thinking is the greatest gift that we, as humans, possess. Our ability to reason, plan ahead and think critically with our brains is a function that is uniquely ours, respectively. It is what separates humans biologically from all other mammals, animals, species and organisms on the planet. Thinking is my greatest endowment, a talent that I treasure, an ability that I have honed throughout my academic life. It is also the source of my mental and emotional downfalls and the root of all the misleading and diabolical wanderings my mind encounters. My cognition is up to speed after a good night's sleep, my ideas are of the utmost brilliance on most days, my consciousness awakened if I've had my full cup of chai, my sentience toward others a bit dilapidated like the home I was raised in, and my imagination just runs away with me... all the parts of thought are present.
2am is the time a brain should be resting and not thinking.
However, tonight I find myself sitting restlessly... doing just that.
Naturally, I have thought overload. I scrutinize every aspect of everything. Try to figure out every thing before everyone else does and be two steps ahead of the entire world. I crave perfection. That's what being in the GATE program all your life will do to you. When asked to distinguish whether I see the glass as half full or half empty, I go on to wonder who left the glass that way in the first place. I question the glass' very existence and why I'm being asked to determine it's state of being? I try to solve for the x when there was no need to, build mountains out of moleholes that don't need to be touched, create something out of nothing. Academically, thinking teaches me to be wise and critical. Not to leave any stone unturned. To try and try, then try again. Have a keen eye over every thing to avoid mistakes. In life, it's caused me to be an overattentive wreck with borderline obsessive compulsive disorder. Or maybe that's just my hypochondria kicking in.
Apart from all that life is good right now. I feel like I'm on top of the world and I'm waiting for life to catch up to me. I'm stronger, better, faster. I've become so empowered, I try to face my fears in a single night. Flipping through the pages of each scrapbook I built knowing that I should have ripped and burned these pages a long time ago, I try to mask the burn I feel from all the hurt I see. I try to tell myself to be ruthless and to believe that the memories will fade into the shadows and after a while I'll get insensitive to them. They will cease to exist and the old me will rest in the pieces of ripped pages and burnt photos. The flesh wounds are now closed and there is no one around to rub salt. The scars have lost their dark marks on my skin and his hands can't feel them anymore so he doesn't know what existed before. I can be anyone I want to be and this is my reincarnation. It's the chance to get back on my own two feet again. I find my balance on them and I take flight through the streets and life is beautiful again. I talk, I laugh, I smile and I'm free. And that's all he sees- all the perfections, nothing else. He's a perfect stranger. He doesn't need to know.
After many months of bringing myself back from the dead... literally. I thought I was well enough to look through everything again- think about every thing again, ponder about every thing that happened over again. The keyword here is.. I thought. I thought I was well enough. I thought I was fully repaired. Yet I knew that I shouldn't have done it. I should have waited for a better time because, quite frankly, 2 am is not the best time to make any type of decision no matter how big or small. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good" and I told her exactly what I was doing. She doesn't know the half of it. So I sat in the dark of night, thinking about everything, alone.
Thinking is the greatest gift that we, as humans, possess. Our ability to reason, plan ahead and think critically with our brains is a function that is uniquely ours, respectively. It is what separates humans biologically from all other mammals, animals, species and organisms on the planet. Thinking is my greatest endowment, a talent that I treasure, an ability that I have honed throughout my academic life. It is also the source of my mental and emotional downfalls and the root of all the misleading and diabolical wanderings my mind encounters. My cognition is up to speed after a good night's sleep, my ideas are of the utmost brilliance on most days, my consciousness awakened if I've had my full cup of chai, my sentience toward others a bit dilapidated like the home I was raised in, and my imagination just runs away with me... all the parts of thought are present.
2am is the time a brain should be resting and not thinking.
However, tonight I find myself sitting restlessly... doing just that.
Naturally, I have thought overload. I scrutinize every aspect of everything. Try to figure out every thing before everyone else does and be two steps ahead of the entire world. I crave perfection. That's what being in the GATE program all your life will do to you. When asked to distinguish whether I see the glass as half full or half empty, I go on to wonder who left the glass that way in the first place. I question the glass' very existence and why I'm being asked to determine it's state of being? I try to solve for the x when there was no need to, build mountains out of moleholes that don't need to be touched, create something out of nothing. Academically, thinking teaches me to be wise and critical. Not to leave any stone unturned. To try and try, then try again. Have a keen eye over every thing to avoid mistakes. In life, it's caused me to be an overattentive wreck with borderline obsessive compulsive disorder. Or maybe that's just my hypochondria kicking in.
Apart from all that life is good right now. I feel like I'm on top of the world and I'm waiting for life to catch up to me. I'm stronger, better, faster. I've become so empowered, I try to face my fears in a single night. Flipping through the pages of each scrapbook I built knowing that I should have ripped and burned these pages a long time ago, I try to mask the burn I feel from all the hurt I see. I try to tell myself to be ruthless and to believe that the memories will fade into the shadows and after a while I'll get insensitive to them. They will cease to exist and the old me will rest in the pieces of ripped pages and burnt photos. The flesh wounds are now closed and there is no one around to rub salt. The scars have lost their dark marks on my skin and his hands can't feel them anymore so he doesn't know what existed before. I can be anyone I want to be and this is my reincarnation. It's the chance to get back on my own two feet again. I find my balance on them and I take flight through the streets and life is beautiful again. I talk, I laugh, I smile and I'm free. And that's all he sees- all the perfections, nothing else. He's a perfect stranger. He doesn't need to know.
And I sit here, thinking I'm completely healed.
So I flip through everything again. I thought about what went wrong, how I could have fixed it all, what would have made a difference and how I would be or where I'd be now in a different life. I throw my head back and close my eyes. The pictures project on the insides of my eyelids and a tiny smile appears on my face. I watch and I stop thinking about the what if's and I just lte it be. I take a final deep breathe and close the book.
Then I turn out the lights and get the best night's rest.
I just let it be.
No comments:
Post a Comment