|The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.)||The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.)||The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.)|
Deal with it
Tonight at the studio with MayFlower and her enforcer husband.
There was a moment when I, sitting outside, smoking a cigarette, had this sensory dejavu from the time I was on Lizard Island and sat up on the porch, writing a letter to Robert about how I wished that he were still around and how I wanted to share the Southern Cross with him and only had the memory of him to share it with. The night felt the same, but then, tonight, I thought, it was really me who felt the same. Something that I had always made external was suddenly drawn inside.
Part of it was the happenings this night: feeling a part but not a part of things, feeling as though who I am were not important in the greater scheme of things, that my life was only part of a bigger sense of something perhaps but that me, I, this self that I've created out of whole cloth, means nothing. I felt a fraud at the edges or as though who I had to be tonight was false and for that reason made me feel outside of the normal flow of things.
I have to close my eyes to write this because I can't think of the words with my eyes open. I can't listen to the feeling inside with my eyes open for some reason.
I have been taking this antidepressant for almost a year now, and who I am has been diminished. (In a real-life case of "be careful what you wish for," I've been ground down so much that I'm almost who I had always wanted to be prior to beginning the antidepressant.)
Now, I'm tired and things feel the same again.