"Communist Brain"

by John H.
2001.03.28

As always, the times they are changing. It seems lately, life is changing, more rapidly than I can get a handle on sometimes. People, places and things going in and out of my life faster than speeding bullets. Change freaks me out, like a new pair of stiff pants, that need washed a few times, before they feel like their yours. My reality, that I’ve so carefully calculated, turned topsy turvy by circumstances not of my own doing. Making decisions for the tomorrow, and not for today, that compromise my fragile eggshell existence.

Evaluating my life, trying to remember all the goals that my brain has set for me. Realizing that I’m no closer to those goals, than the day my brain set them. I’m determined to meet those goals, but will that calm my thoughts? I bet not, there will be others that crop up, just as others come to fruition. I guess it’s a constant struggle; one that I will never win, but nonetheless continue to fight. I just hope that once I awake from my delusion of determination, I haven’t spent so much time on my deserted island, that I missed the high tide that can return me to civilization.

I’m constantly apologizing for my behavior, as if I have to be ashamed of my striving towards goals. Maybe I’m ashamed of the goals my brain has set, but how does my heart alter my brains predetermined agenda? My brain always wins those struggles, because older wiser people have demanded my brain always win. But I sometimes wonder, what if my heart was strong enough to set my dreams as the priority.

Funny thing about dreams, they always seem to be just that. We all have our fantasies that we wish would come true, but we never purse them with enough energy to get anywhere. So our dreams sit in the shadows and wait for their turn. But their numbers are never called.

I find that time is a commodity that is shrinking as each day passes by. The day needs to be longer, I need to be stronger, relentless and never tire. But I am weak, only made of flesh that tires. I need new batteries, unfortunately they don’t make batteries that big. So I continue to fool myself into thinking that the next number called might be a dream.