Sometimes I wonder
“How am I ever supposed to conduct myself to live in this world when my brain sometimes feels like not wanting to preform in this world?”
What am I supposed to do with myself when the fibres of my being can’t think of anything worse than getting told what to do with themselves? Why do I have such a hard time being told I’m not allowed to do something I’d like to do? Or the way I’d like to do that particular something is wrong?
What’s a girl’s brain (like mine) to do in this world?
A brain like mine likes to go right when someone says “left, please!”. A brain like mine feels like heading thgir. A brain like mine sometimes finds its way setting out for tfel. Because sometimes a brain like mine feels sick of having to choose left or right. Why can’t we go upside down today? Because left and right can tend to feel more along the lines of a STOP sign, a road block rather than an abundance of choices.
Follow your dreams. But dreams only go down this way ————————————————————————-—> Someone said so once upon a time.
Maybe there’s another direction to go, like a direction that doesn’t have a name. Because a brain like mine doesn’t feel the need to bestow a name onto everything. A brain like mine asks, “what would all the things we force a name upon, name themselves if we didn’t beat them to it?” And “what if we just let things be the things they want to be? What if a job didn’t even want to be a job? What if breakfast wanted to be dinner?” And all the things that hurt my brain are the things we think we need like thinking there is such thing as having to go only this way or one other.
For the most part, I’m happy with the thinks I think. And oh the thinks I can think! But sometimes my brain gives itself the idea of something we call sabotage. Because a brain like mine sometimes doesn’t feel like having a my way, or a highway, or a yourway. There are many ways to go and too many ways that people seem to presume are the wrong way. Because my brain wants to know why its way is presumed the wrong way? Why is your brain’s way more acceptable than my brain’s way? It’s simply not fair. Because my brain believes it’s just hair but your brain believes it’s much more.
I find that my brain must be aware of the word sabotage and its definition, and how to trick my body into acting accordingly. I guess my brain doesn’t seem to care about the negative connotations that follow. I don’t know why my brain claims to not want to know some things about listening and a little more about a concept labelled “respect”. So my brain and its friends discuss, is acting unfavourable towards orders and rules really a sabotage upon themselves? Or is it sabotaging the act of me looking like an idea of a well-trained human? And why is it when I walk down the street and I reach a sign telling me I’m unable to use this path I’m walking down today, something inside of me wants to walk down the path anyway?
So this is why I wonder, how am I ever supposed to conduct myself to live in this world when my brain sometimes feels like not wanting to preform in this world? Because my brain and its friends have surroundings. My body’s social circle isn’t the only circle we have to deal with in this realm. There’s a big world out there. It’s opener there in the wide open air.
My brain believes another part of itself wants to sabotage. At least that’s what word my brain thinks suits. It doesn’t know exactly what sabotaging is or what it is sabotaging outside of itself but it knows the cues that create the actions that may occur. Something I would appreciate is if my brain made it easier for me to perform a little act. I need to produce a few scenes. I’d really like my brain to co-operate. Because I have a lot of things I’d like to keep close to me in my life now. And I have something I want to jump out of bed for. When a brain like mine wants things that don’t work in my surrounding’s favour, I wish to be one of those normal humans. One that works in a conventional way and one that gets things done. A brain that is happy to go either left or right. A brain that feels at peace with a beginning, middle and end to a story. But why do I have to be a normal human? When “normal” doesn’t feel normal to this human? Me.