A Life on the Rapid Cycle

I wrote the following passage in my journal back in 2009.  Though it’s a little bleak in attitude, I think fellow rapid cyclers may be able to relate…

Why make decisions, when my mind will change with my next breath?  The sun pops into existence, shining brightly, too brightly to feel like a sun at all. Its artificial spotlight catches the sight of my brain parade as it shoots across the stars and scatters.  Suddenly it is night, and the blackest shade of black cannot elude the emptiness that grips my inner being.  The thickness of it chokes my lungs, the carelessness of it rips out all feeling apart from grief.  Because the loss of feeling is a grief, a longing for things lost, an absence of purpose.  It is a separation from self, a growing disbelief that the self ever existed at all.

I close my eyes and open them, and again the sun blinds me, burns me.  Along with it rushes a disturbing wind of thoughts and ideas.  The grand illusion of it all!  I feel on top, running along at inhuman speed, when the reality of the matter is I am free falling off the edge, oblivious to everything real and solid.  

Why trust my mind, when my mind controls me?  It is apart from me, a bullet flying madly through the air toward me.  It creates me, destroys me, and though I am linked to it in scarring patterns, my mind and I remain strangers. We are wildly grasping at straws in effort to become one.  We are two objects chasing after one another like a dog chasing its tail, only it is impossible to tell who is the head and who is the tail.  Instead of working together in a constructive coexistence, we attack each other.  A black eye here, a broken bone there.  We are at war on uneven grounds.  

The sun comes.  The night comes.  Quickly, quickly!  The constant spinning, the constant tug of war.  It exhausts us both.  We fall silent, wounded, against the contrasts of unruly bliss and derailing misery.

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