I am very sad to leave but at the same time I think it's time for me to take on another challenge.
I may not show it much but I am emotionally and physically drained... it's a blow the first time I heard I was epileptic, it's another to hear I am bipolar, and it's such a bomb to feel that in reality, I am disabled permanently.... I keep fighting it, but I slump a hundred times over.
I look at all my medical records, piled up in front of me, heaps! I was fooling myself the whole time.
Blow after blow, I always try to keep my head up, but someone either pulls it back or pushes it down.
I am a jokester, I like to stand up and leap to test who will break the fall. Yet, no one.
My sickness when it strikes can muster a battalion, but a few remain to stand by me.
Life is a mystery, the times you trust are usually the times you shouldn't.
More often, it's better to put your head in an empty box, no holes, you can only see your feet or chest, and hear yourself breathe. That way, you know you're still alive.
Have you ever been mixed up with happiness and heaviness at one moment?
To place who fathered which emotion is also one way of knowing which part of you is working that time, whether it was established by the brain or the heart or perhaps in this case, maybe both. But to decipher which is the decision-maker happens to be the tough part in that moment of mix-up.
I am happy today, a lazy sunny Sunday. If I should associate this happiness within my brain It is because I am listening to my favorite tunes on the radio It may sound cheesy, but I am actually a true blue jazz music fan.
I like those inconsistent lingering indefinite and where-does-this-lead-to melody and vocals. Tickling clickety clicks of the piano, high pitch horns, scats, shi-shing cymbals and shakers, tingling bells and chimes, talking acoustics, baby-ooh-you-make-me bedroom vocals…. they really get to me.
Maybe because it’s also how I see and draw art. Emotionally, I feel the same way. What my brain is nibbling on, the jazz music flowing in my ear that soothes my mind and takes me back to memory lane, tranquils my senses, is also the same music which fills the loss in my heart.
This music that sparks my mind to imagine is also making my heart feel alive again.
Going back, I have never heard of a person whose heart can be divided, Yet there is such a thing as divided thinking. The mind can certainly play tricks on us, or in my case my mind plays a big role in my emotional stability.
My head still rules over my heart. Whatever my head dictates, my heart follows. At least that’s what I think I am doing.
