The mind is a really simple vessel, cells fire and synapses connect and blood flows, limbs move, eyes blink, you think. You’re squirrel brain is the amygdala and the cause of primitive anxiety. Fear. We all feel it once in a while like the feeling of not being alone in your own room. Like someone is watching.
The brain overactive and exhausted sees things, fights invisible ghosts.
My last episode, I tried to end world war 3. How did I do? An exhausting brain and an over worked mind can lapse from real world and dip into fantasy. That’s what my brain did. I didn’t believe people could die. And I didn’t want to ever again. I was on my front lawn next to a suicide awareness sign, screaming, and things became blurry. The police came, the ambulance came. I hugged a police officer. Screamed peace and love could end war. I could have been shot. He let me hug him. I stepped into an ambulance. I was restrained. My oh my, the squirrel brain can do some crazy things when your mind is overdone and wired for sound. The ambulance screamed with me trying to understand world peace, with me in the stretcher, trying to understand world peace. I spent much of the time in restraints, trying to understand world peace.
The world is a zip code of chaos. Wherever you go war and take out differ. Where I am the take out is pretty bland and war is 6000 miles away. But in Ukraine, or Nigeria, or Iraq or Egypt or Iran- take out exists and everyone must eat.
And here I am waving flags of peace. And I have been lucky to never see war. I am not weak for wishing for peace. I am not weak for never seeing war. I am lucky.
I am grateful. I am grateful that my squirrel brain doesn’t get me shot. And I don’t see war torn streets. I wave flags of peace but have never seen war in these streets. I am not a peace seeker. I have always kept peace, even in my chaos, my grass is green and the kids play in their yards. I am lucky and grateful.
War is a day dream. And war is sleeping where I live. And the police officer I hugged on my front yard who put handcuffs on my back? Could have been so much worse. Not even in a war, I mean what if I was black?
I am white. I live in a small town, next to the one I grew up in. It could have been so different. Not Ukraine, what if it was just my pigment of my skin? What if the police had no training in mental illness? What if? I sit here typing this out trying to make sense of all
of what I have recently witnessed.
What am I even complaining about? I say I stay perseverent. I am being foolish. When you talk about being black manic and white and manic, my episode sounds stupid. And also generalizing black and white without adding socioeconomic status, and all that. It’s too deep an issue to grasp or for me to truly say I understand. I am just looking back at what happened and I am still embarrassed.
Sorry, I made this political and racial, I just meant to stay lucid. There is nothing I can say about this. Our heartbeats all beat the same. Our brains all fire different. Our pigment and zip code really make one person free and the other a statistic.
I just wanted to end the war. An impossiblity. Maybe I just wanted to end the war in my head.
#Truth #Poetry #Perspective