Wednesday, January 9, 2013

The Ouroboros

My day is filled with fleeting ideas, pieces of stories, clever sayings, words of wisdom, extistensial meanderings... but I never write them down. Too busy. Elbow deep in work, in the middle of other tasks otherwise difficult to pull away from... then they are gone. I comfort myself by telling myself I will remember the ideas eventually and write them down into something great, like 'On Tour'. I never remember.

...gonna steal time from the faulty plan...

(ironic since 'On Tour' is about Phish...) I know my memory blows. Not a chance in hell I will remember this shit. I am lucky if I remember a small fraction in random moments that remind me.

...gotta blank space where my mind should be...

My days off just feel like recoup days, and days where I plan on cleaning the house that drives me insane with how messy it is. Or, I plan on running errands, finishing projects. More time than not, I look at the mess and get too overwhelmed and tired to touch it. I cant find the energy or give-a-shit to finish projects or run errands. So things just pile up on top of me and around me in this endless cycle of too-much-shit is too overwhelming, so it piles into an ever growing heap of shit that is heavier and harder to deal with each time I look at it.

...got strange demands piled up on me...

Some days, I want to chuck it all, give the finger to everything, and disappear.  Flat out, drop off the grid and try to figure shit out.

...gonna shrug demands off of me...

Then I get rational and realize life would become WAY harder and more complicated, with new piles of shit, in exchange for adventure. One pile of shit for another? Ugh. There is no escape, is there? I stay trapped in this loop or get stuck in another. Either way, I feel like a fucking verbil grinding away, thinking if I run fast enough in this wheel, I can be free of it.

...got memories. .. got memories. .. got memories of being free...

Sometimes I get this fleeting feeling that, in a past life, alternate timeline, evil twin of me, whatever you want to call it, that I wasn't in this rat race. That I was fulfilled, doing what I want, making a difference, and being free... Maybe it's just a daydream projection of where I want to be. Go ask a dozen doctors, get a dozen different answers. I don't know why I feel this anxiety so deep down, this feeling that things are not right but exactly as they are meant to be. Like a mismatched soul to time and place, which goes back to a feeling I have had since I was old enough to remember having any. I always have felt awkward and out of place, and out of time as well once I understood that dimension. Fantasy and Sci-fi stories have always felt like more comfortable places than this one. Which is how we come back full circle to my head in the clouds, dreaming of places and lives I would rather be in and living than this one. Anywhere but here, more times than not. Living two lives, the one I am in and don't want, while dreaming of new ones in my head I want but am not in.

...got clouds that seem to follow me...

I just melt into depression when it gets to be too much. Piles of shit from a life I don't want, why do I keep running a race I don't want to win, in a sport I hate? I tell myself I can change the sport and race if I just get through it. My dangling carrot. If I am successful in this life, I can make new rules. Money can buy adventures and peace of mind. It can buy time so I can make a good plan and a life that feels like it fits... right? ...right? ...don't tell me I am wrong, because this can't be all there is... there has to be a rainbow on the other side of a pot of gold.

...gonna dream... gonna dream... dream of being free...

My spirals, my Ouroboros, looks something like this. Eating myself, my own soul, just to get to the next day. I go down these spirals, dreaming, trying to encourage myself when all evidence points to what I don't want to face, a life I don't want. No other nourishment, life, exists, so I gnaw at my own, waiting for that juicy mouse to sustain me long enough to slither off to a place where my Ouroboros,  and soul, can be fulfilled.

Gonna act as though I'm still a woman...

Even though I don't feel the part, I am going to wake up tomorrow and act like I belong. Just like I have been. The performance I have practiced for my whole life. Others play it better, but I get the feeling I am the only one acting here... Don't seem to have any other choice. Mask back on, lights, camera...

...gonna give you one last chance to see...

Back to you, Jen.