Turned On.

" and on the way home held your camera like a bible

                              just wishing that it held some kind of truth."

 

I've spent months shutting off my brain, as if Conor was right when he mentioned a switch.

My heart has never been as easy and I've lied to a thousand ears every time I promised them they'd be simple to forget.

And I've said it before letting go is a completely different concept than forgetting

                  And I know forgetting is an act I've yet to master.

I can pretty much promise you that your heart and your head were created to work together.

    You can be an Einstein or a Plath.

But it's always better to be a Bukowski.

 

My heart wasn't made to carry my heads share and my brain would mean nothing if I lacked heart.

                  Tonight I am reaping the consequences of half of a year without my head…

And the lesson learned is not thinking about things doesn't make them go away.

Pretending I am not sick does not make my body feel any less useless.

        Pushing past the diagnosis doesn't change the lighting in the bathroom as I am left throwing up that day's meal.

Still all the while my heart has been on.

Green Lights. Go Ahead.

FEELING the thoughts I've not allowed myself to think.

    Rollercoaster is the most cliché way to describe my emotions these last few months.

And I've let my heart take the brunt of things my head should have dealt with….

Or at least shared the responsibility for.

So as I said in earlier blogs…

     I've felt it all.

But haven't thought a thing.

       And I wouldn't have been half the emotional wreckage if I'd just processed what was happening.

(15 minutes of staring at this page I've come to the conclusion that there is no proper way to end this except to say I am thinking again.)

I want to read every single book I've been neglecting.

           Fill pages with the cleverest of words.

And talk.talk.talk.

   Think.

Not (just) Feel.

 

Yeah.

Switch on.

 

 

"But there's this burn in my stomach and there's this pain in my side
                               And when I kneel at the toilet
And the mornings clean light pours in through the window
                                   Sometimes I pray I don't die
                                                       I'm a goddamn hypocrite"