Misty Thought

Tired.

Emotionally so, I think.

Eyes closed, as to sleep, but my mind is a fire of a thousand flames.

Amy asks me what I’m thinking about- holding my hand.

It would feel like picking a single grain out of a thousand to choose a single thought and claim it as the one I was thinking.

I realize that sometimes, like now, my thoughts are a million drops of water in the air, like the mist of a waterfall, akin to the Buddhist universe. Like the blood in my body, a million mental streams of thought pour through my consciousness.

I’m thinking about my future, about relationships in general, about how I don’t like trash in cars, about cheating couples and the fate of any relationship. I’m thinking about amy being a Blue and my being a Yellow, and if that means she’ll be loyal and never cheat on me. I’m thinking about how when I choose to say something or write something down, the streams of thought narrow and the midst hits land to become a single, strong, thought.

I’m thinking of how I don’t like cats and how I like dogs, but would prefer to not have any pet to look after. 

Maybe I’m feeling more than thinking.

Maybe the two aren’t as antithetic as people are prone to paint them.

They are strewn as a dichotomy, but I might want to find that false.

I think of how I often secretly don’t believe that feelings are anything more than thoughts that get mis-labeled because they are different. Like the way kids in the deep corners of china are told and believe that ‘white people’ or ‘americans’ are aliens from outer-space, and thats why they look so different.

Emotions: separated thoughts, so we can fear them and have distance between us and them.

It does help, I admit, psychologically speaking, to separate the energies of the brain into an ‘intellectual’ spectrum and an ‘emotional’ one. It’s pragmatic to do so, and helpful.

It does not follow that emotions are not thoughts.

I think now that my thoughts are more like a wide river of ideas flowing in the same direction, rather than a scattered mist.

It is very much like me to sit and have a million thoughts simultaneously, like seeds of corn popping in the microwave, each thought bearing a bit of fruit.

Feeling can be so much like thinking. I know that it’s been proven that a lot of what we ‘feel’ is simply our unconscious mind and it’s calculations affecting the body and conscious mind. The deductions of your unconscious mind leak into your conscious mind and you feel scared, because the logic of your situation doesn’t add up. 

I like sometimes, to sit and let my mind blur to a large mist of calculations and unemotional considerations. When I think of them being unemotional, I guess I mean emotional, just not stressful. 

If we are simply bio-computers, like some posit, the price we pay for being soft is that we feel that terrible ‘stress’ often, and in a plethora of ways. I’d much rather monitor a ‘stress meter’ on my arm and not feel a thing, than to be occasionally overwhelmed and irrational and stupid because my insides worry about how I will ever get along in life.

I guess this is how I veg. I stop pinning down my thoughts to specific words and motives, and turn them loose like birds from the cage. I mist.

I think I haven’t blogged in a long time because of how must mental pinning down my life and work have required the past few months. 

When I am free of that, I catch-up on my mist time, where I let my mind sway in a gigantic tide of ocean, and natural wave and teem with life.

I guess I could always blog on my mist itself. Aim it as a river. Not too much as to destroy it or introduce too much motive or stress. But enough to write something down. Beats staring out the car window as we drive from Quebec City back to Montreal and down to Toronto.