I'm just going to ramble here. If I come out with rational and coherent sentences, that will be nice. But, for now, I just put on the page what I think...haha...I started to write paper. It's funny how you can now have a page without paper. I've not been feeling well this week, I attribute that to the fact that I have run myself down. I am a victim of the hamster principle...you know...run yourself ragged until your body says, "eff this, I need a break". I suspect that that is what is happening now.
I found myself speeding up and dancing to some really rapid drumbeats and now I just can't go anymore. I thought in the past that when I sped up like this that I could slow myself down...but I just can't do it. I can kind of pace myself. What keeps me moving is this ingrained guilt.
I was watching this old movie called The Red Shoes the other day where this girl saw some red shose that she just had to have and she couldn't stop dancing in them. My mother used to read me and my sisters that story before we went to bed when we were little. It used to creep me out, especially the end where they had to chop her feet off to stop the shoes from making her dance. Talking about throwing the baby out with the bath water.
I think that this story speaks to materialism and how we think that if we get that one little thing that all of our problems will be solved...guess what? You start dancing to the beat of societies drums and the faster and faster they go, the faster you have to dance. Until...bam...you get tired.
It's like I'm running from something. I think it's some type of discomfort that I'm running from but it's an inner discomfort, some type of turmoil...I just don't understand. Just like that girl with those shoes.
Because I was so antsy, I started doing a fourth step. That made me antsier...if that's the write spelling. Being sick, I'm ansty. I want to just rush around and make the world a better place to live so that I will be more comfortable. When I did this speedy shit inthe past, I would do things like buy people stuff to make them happy. I would also make these drastic life plan/ slash changes. I go between frantic random activity in my life to total inertia.
I think that I'm finding a happy medium.
That frantic activity mode is as bad as the total inertia...I hate both of them. With frantic activity, I don't think, I just do. With the total inertia, I don't do anything, I just think. I wonder what made me like this. It sounds bipolar...but people keep telling me I'm not bipolar because I am aware. I wasn't always aware. I have just learned to stop long enough to think about what I am doing. I had to train myself to do that.
At one point I was afraid to blog about this stuff because I was afraid that people would think I'm crazy. I know that people think I'm crazy anyway so these days, I don't give a shit. Besides, Ted Turner is bipolar, if it wasn't for all that money he had he'd get no respect. He's not medicated either. Yikes! Money must provide a great cushion between being delusional and reality.
Writing calms me. It helps me pace myself in world that seems to spin so fast that you can't see the forest or the trees or smell the flowers or none of that stuff. I'm grateful for pen, paper and Blogger. It's difficult to be sane in an increasingly sane world.
I found myself speeding up and dancing to some really rapid drumbeats and now I just can't go anymore. I thought in the past that when I sped up like this that I could slow myself down...but I just can't do it. I can kind of pace myself. What keeps me moving is this ingrained guilt.
I was watching this old movie called The Red Shoes the other day where this girl saw some red shose that she just had to have and she couldn't stop dancing in them. My mother used to read me and my sisters that story before we went to bed when we were little. It used to creep me out, especially the end where they had to chop her feet off to stop the shoes from making her dance. Talking about throwing the baby out with the bath water.
I think that this story speaks to materialism and how we think that if we get that one little thing that all of our problems will be solved...guess what? You start dancing to the beat of societies drums and the faster and faster they go, the faster you have to dance. Until...bam...you get tired.
It's like I'm running from something. I think it's some type of discomfort that I'm running from but it's an inner discomfort, some type of turmoil...I just don't understand. Just like that girl with those shoes.
Because I was so antsy, I started doing a fourth step. That made me antsier...if that's the write spelling. Being sick, I'm ansty. I want to just rush around and make the world a better place to live so that I will be more comfortable. When I did this speedy shit inthe past, I would do things like buy people stuff to make them happy. I would also make these drastic life plan/ slash changes. I go between frantic random activity in my life to total inertia.
I think that I'm finding a happy medium.
That frantic activity mode is as bad as the total inertia...I hate both of them. With frantic activity, I don't think, I just do. With the total inertia, I don't do anything, I just think. I wonder what made me like this. It sounds bipolar...but people keep telling me I'm not bipolar because I am aware. I wasn't always aware. I have just learned to stop long enough to think about what I am doing. I had to train myself to do that.
At one point I was afraid to blog about this stuff because I was afraid that people would think I'm crazy. I know that people think I'm crazy anyway so these days, I don't give a shit. Besides, Ted Turner is bipolar, if it wasn't for all that money he had he'd get no respect. He's not medicated either. Yikes! Money must provide a great cushion between being delusional and reality.
Writing calms me. It helps me pace myself in world that seems to spin so fast that you can't see the forest or the trees or smell the flowers or none of that stuff. I'm grateful for pen, paper and Blogger. It's difficult to be sane in an increasingly sane world.
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