Tuesday, February 10, 2009

A Struggle for Balance

At the brink of a new life, yet so many memories of the bygone remind me of where I come from.
People I’ve known for so long now seem more precious with the little amount of time remaining.
I write in my head because there is no time to pick up the pen. The writer in me caged and unhappy. Creativity suppressed, Intelligence shown the door yet I cling to the potentially bright aspects.
“Plan as though you’ll live forever,” they say, “live as though it were your last day”. I struggle to find a balance. I want to run to the future. Or stay in the present without doing what is expected of me. To live peacefully, reading, listening to jazz, dancing alone and going for walks. But I sit at my desk and manipulate words, memorise names for a test or fill up mundane forms.
Reminders of how young and innocent I once was lie on the floor as I enter the house.
To recognize the phobias I’ve had for so long, influencing everything I do. And feel bored that so little has changed.
Excess information clogs my brain. It is an art and a habit to make everything simple complicated and want to simplify all mental inputs that are not. Maybe it’s not important because I overfeel, overspeak, overthink.
What is important? The past? Future? Present? All of them?
It’s a struggle for balance.

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