rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

A Bit Manic

Fleeting thoughts buzz in and out of my head, never alighting. They are like hummingbirds glimpsed from the corner of the eye: there and gone. Too many moments of too many years occupy bits of my brain, and too many of them refuse to stay in their assigned spots. Here comes a brief glimpse of the honeysuckle clinging to the hillside above the road I took home from school. It is quickly followed by a theater aisle, a neon sign flashing "Hotel, Hotel, Hotel," and then the smell of diesel exhaust mingling with the smell of hamburgers blown through the vent of a diner. A swing stirred by the breeze creaks in a deserted park, a newspaper slaps against the worn boards of a porch, a cat sitting on a table in a courtyard cafe grooms itself as a parrot squawks from a perch in a nearby tree. Not one image will settle long enough for me to focus on it. Heat flows quickly after cold, day changes places with night again and again as mere minutes pass, the real (or once real) blends with the imagined. If one's whole life does pass before one's eyes at the moment of death, the experience will be no novelty for me. It has happened many times, though it has come less frequently as I've gotten older. Try as I might, I've never been able to grab anything from these storms of images and hold it in my gaze and ignore the others. I've learned to simply let the process run its course, sleep off the consequent exhaustion, and wait for the aftereffects to wear off a day or two later. They are like mini-bouts of bipolar disorder. They waste my time. I blame them on caffeine. My hypochondria tells me they are probably some sort of petit mal. I suppose I'll have to put up with them until I'm dead. Whatever they are, because of them I'll certainly get nothing done tonight. Now, I'm going out to look at the night sky for a while, and then I'll try to get to sleep. Stupid brain disorder!

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