I studied Literature in university, yet I do not read as much as I should. It’s tedious. It’s time consuming and it’s terrifying really. Why? My mind can’t focus. This is a new development and I hate it. I can’t even watch movies or series anymore either, because my mind just jumps and skips and screws me over to watch the ceiling painted in darkness or light; the time of day does not matter. Lately, I just scroll through Instagram, Facebook or WordPress. I wait for something to catch my eye. I pray for anything to grab me and keep me hooked for more than five seconds. Sometimes I don’t even get the privilege of that quickie.
I think it’s because there are so many things on my mind, but when I try to sift through the rubble it dissipates like cloud coverage on a sunny day. I ache not knowing what to do and I think this just adds to my mind cave and in turn my distractedness and inability to stay still mentally for even the tip to touch skin. I can’t support this theory though, for obviously I can’t do the research.
I have awesome books: prose, poetry, self-help etc., and I can’t go through any of them in completion. It pains me and I reach for solutions that I don’t even know exist and I try to conjure up the demons that are obviously persecuting me, but it’s a battle. One that I am not sure I will win, for my fighting techniques are less than average. My feisty skills are way below normal human capacity. I don’t read enough or research enough or keep updated enough. I exist in this space and I don’t know what purpose it serves.
Poet Phil Kaye in his poem REPETITION says that if you say something over and over it loses its meaning (see… nothing) and if you wake up day after day after day, you forget why.
I think I am a repeated number in a null set.
Four down, forty-eight to go…