Fragmented Motivation

“Genius is one of the many forms of insanity”

~Cesare Lombroso

It has been a while since I was unable to channel my mind fluently. The level of hormones rushing around my body must be ingesting speed because the mood alternate as if between an on and off switch.

My brain feels like heavy cotton wool. I can’t place or name what it is that is bothering me, if anything. I could be entirely content and have the demons constantly encouraging me to seek faults.

My day has been glossed over with smiles that I can’t say are false...although none of them reflect the reality I am drifting in. To be caught between fictional phases is by far the most melancholy feat I have ever fallen to. It’s not that I can’t get out of this hollow dwelling; it’s that I don’t know what is sucking the joy from deep within my heart.

When fickle enough to fall prey to your own vicious mind, you begin to ponder what plausible routes are open for chasing. Could my own malicious mental cycle devour my being? Could this be an escape? A method of self-destruction? This is all assuming the glass is half empty. However, having been raised with a silver lining always in sight, I know I will wake up tomorrow, kick myself in the face and recreate my thought processes in order to once again join the flow of ebbing happiness I am certain is lurking in me somewhere.

It does however set off a domino effect of guessing games, forcing me to ask; “Is this how people lose their minds?” Are people unable to declare war upon themselves when they cannot estimate which side will be victorious? Are people able to idly follow as their repetitive thoughts chase each other around a fishbowl? How do specialists educate patients on the reasons behind their lapsing sanity? Do they seat the in a comfortable chair (to soften the blow) and calmly link the results together with a smug look and hand gestures? Or do they simply say (with their hands in the air) “You Sir/Madam are mad and you are mad because you are making yourself mad.”

Erase the institutions and the “nutters” are probably the smartest most realistic people around. So in touch with their abilities they cannot help by get kidnapped by their mind; the only place anyone understands them.

Here’s to the refugees of social hierarchy.

Here’s to the ones who are safer where they can’t speak out, because we all know their tongues would be fried for breakfast.

Here’s to every individual who allows their brain the opportunity to feed their heart.

Here’s to the pill-poppers, binge drinkers, gamers and the escapists; just because they know the world for what it is.

Here’s to everyone who thinks, lives and feels outside the box.

Here’s to the tree-planters, the smile-sharers and the educators for enriching every mortal soul.

Here’s to the heroes amongst the sheep.

Here’s to the fearless intellectual quiz-masters.

Here’s to everyone who has ever challenged authority.

Here’s to the people who act rather than just think.

Here’s to change.

Here’s to hope.

Here’s to you.