02/28/01 - 10:20 pm

Dear Alicia

Sometimes I wake up in the morning my feet my soul my arms my legs my self my eggs are all fried
I'm not getting along, I'm not getting the answers,  cause  I can't get out of my head

<click on> The expansive power of the human is truly something to be marveled at. Dare I say the thought of it boggles that very same entity.  Within its confines, lies the ability to retain and recall information and memories, create scenarios, balance, control and ever overreact emotions, all of that, while simply maintaining the human body functions that keep us alive every day.  When you think about it, your head has a lot more going on than people realize, and its amazing on some days that it doesn't explode. (then again, even thinking about it is taxing its capacities as well, creating an interesting enigma, kind of like the staring into the reflection of mirror being shown into a mirror)   

 I open up my eyes open up my eyes but everything is dark I think I'm blind

There was a show in the early 90s called Herman's Head (a guilty pleasure of mine to watch), where the functions of the human brain and mind were personified by 4 different characters.  Examples of its creativity included acting out fantasies as the brain imagined them, and even having them tear through filing cabinets trying to recall a memory.  What goes on in the skull of yours anyhow?  Well, me being a self-professed over thinker and analyzer (right Kat? since she always tells me to stop thinking) but no more than any other person, always has a mass of madness running around in mine.  At any given time, there are thoughts of Kat, both happy in savoring the time that we have, and regretful that I screwed up so badly to let her go, story ideas, movie reviews, past memories triggered by songs, visions of my website, wondering what happened to certain friends, wondering where my life is going, and why isn't it going there any faster, what can i do to expedite it, how would my life be different if I may slight alteration to my schedule, what would happen if I went one mile an hour faster and slammed into this semi that perched itself in front of me, the chain reaction of events and reactions that would follow, thoughts of my mom and how close I come to losing her everyday, but how lucky I am to have her, wondering how my life would differ with you around in flesh as well as spirit, my grocery list, my movie list, my chore list, my to-do list *deep breath*..and thats just in the 25 minutes or so it takes me to drive to work.  Not even counting the plethora of information that I have to recall on the spur of the moment to do my job, bouncing from one unrelated situation to another.  

I'm tired of being tired but in my dreams my arms are open wide

Is it any wonder that I am afflicted with 

A) marathon bouts of insomnia

B) killer migraine beasts that jump all over me and drive railroad spikes of pain through my head

It's maddening, its hard to describe, it defies words and movements to reflect how it feels.  Other than insane, restless frustration, manifesting itself within the boundaries of my skull.  The thoughts racing through my head faster than I can comprehend.  I wonder sometimes what I miss.  Anyone who writes a journal, or for that matter writes anything, knows the frustration of an idea getting lost on its journey from the canvas of your brains catacombs to your hands, and onto the page.  These thoughts lie dormant in my head, watching others pass by, then joining in the creative conga line of infinitive ideas.  My writing is my attempt to expunge these demons from my soul, onto a page, into the ears and minds of others.  Do I do this to curse others, by no means, I do this as a exorcism from my madness.  My head pounds, my heart races, I don't know what to do, but I always welcome ideas.  Kat always says "turn your brain off"  sometimes, I wish it were that easy.  Just to flip a switch, and shangri-la, a lost paradise where my thoughts can be controlled and allowed to go where I want them to, when I want them to, and for as long as I want them to.  

For now, I am a prisoner of my own extenuous thoughts and experiences.  My head full of useless knowledge pushing the boundaries of madness (like the genius in Patch Adams who thought things out so deeply, that it eventually drove him mad)  Does that fate await me?  Its not even that these are great, world changing thoughts that when unleashed make the world a better place.  No, its just me, what I've seen, what I wanna see, what I wanna be, what I felt and want to feel, all together in a mental goulash that drives my head loopy.

The headaches are getting worse, well, scratch that, they've always been bad and their frequency isn't as bad as before, but its picking up again.  Last night was a perfect example.  Between work, navigating the snow covered roads (winter and nature play another cruel trump card to remind us who's in charge) and just the everyday requirements to function, drove me into another pain induced isolatory coma.  I closed the world, as I usually do, immersing myself in the darkness of reality, while my brain screamed for mercy.  

I have had enough.  Doctors only prescribe stopgaps, medication to quell off the pain once they come on, or to lessen the pain.  I just want to know why!! why me!!  I know I'm not alone, but I don't like it, and I want them to stop!  Tomorrow, another step, a long overdue trip to the eye doctor (as promised), with a new resolve to stick with wearing them this time (since I've been diagnosed to wear them since, oh 1988, but have plead off of them, via breakage, headaches, and sheer laziness)  Enough, is enough.  

Great, something else that requires more thought and effort, just what I need.  Don't get me wrong, thinking is NEVER a bad thing.  Often, in movies, and in society, there is an abundant lack of people who don't do enough of it (why would a father inject his son with HIV just to avoid paying child support, why would kids wander into a high school and start shooting, why do serial killers do what they do..) the circle continues, more thought, to figure out why people don't do enough.  I encourage thinking, reading, the utilization of imagination, the expansion of this great organ.  But I wonder, why are some of us cursed with too much, while others hardly do any at all.  This is not the balance of the universe. 

Why, oh why..another thing that requires me to do it again.  I'm stopping for now, the pain is tiptoeing into my head, the little railroad man is raising his hammer, I'm going to try and cut him off at the pass.  Anyone who has any ideas on this, let me know I'm interested in other people's views on this, and anything or everything that happens, or that I say.  As I said before sis, I do care what people think, of this journal, of my letters, of you, of the world.  

The darkness is coming, I need to let it in <click off>

This profession is my obsession and this obsession is my depression and this depression is my release and this release will never cease

Head (1999)- lyrics  by Dave Tomlinson performed by Tin Star

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