Alter Ego.

“Alter Ego.”

On days like today my mind flashes still images in black and white. It paints all the complexities of this world with a single brush. A single stroke. A single feeling. As if all things “me,” mix together to make an all consuming grey to match the skies outside. Are these the writings of a poet or just the inane ramblings of a madman? I have not the stomach to know. For it would seem, this cyphered script echos the weather patterns of my heart and perhaps is all together too delicate for the weight of labels.

I feel missing. Broken and ill-equipped to deal with the rising tide of my life. Desperate to decipher meaning, my mind squirms within a quantum realm, where any and all things are possible. In this place, the foot to my head finds weight and I feel flammable. Like somehow burning it all to the ground would take the weight off and remind me again what it feels like to be alive. Maybe I’m just hurt that I am not a priority. Or maybe, that I never was.

On days like today I feel unsteady. Unsure of the consistency of the earth. As if the fundamental laws of gravity could cease to exist at any moment and forfeit my footing from its harbored anchor in reality.  Where by chance, taking my next step would see the earth give way beneath me or lift me from its surface and cast me off in to the dark. Doomed to die lonely and far from home. Searching for answers outside and in. All the while wondering if I answered these questions, and they answered for inaction, would it be enough just to know?

Perhaps I don’t know how lucky I am or maybe I am just another spoiled and misplaced link in the food chain. Too dumb to realize how good I have it and too short sighted to appreciate the luxury of youth and gifted time. Either way, I feel these things. All and none of them. Which I suppose, is entirely inconsequential but still, none the less real for me. And what is reality if not our biased perception of it.

Some days it takes the very best out of me to try to live and not just survive. The comfort I have created for myself in life has a pestilent alter ego in my head and he collects a fee. A tax on my thoughts. Sowing the seeds of a heartache not yet come to pass, but still undeniably recognizable.  It strains my brain to outsmart him and at times, I can’t help but smile and laugh, as he licks his lips and lights the match.

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