The Blank Mind

Here's the truth of this blank mind problem: it's a lie.

First of all, your mind isn't blank. You're thinking about why you can't think of anything. This alone leads to wonder and anxiety, two mental states that are very productive in the area of random thought generation. What's wrong with me? Why can't I think of anything? I used to be good at this. I can clearly remember a time when this wasn't an issue, and now ...well, dangit, I just can't think of anything. Then the random thoughts eventually form into a cohesive idea, and that's when you realize, wow - my mind isn't blank anymore.

But it wasn't in the first place, which leads us back to sentence one. Or, you could just shrug off the project for the day and go read on the porch. Now, that's the best idea you've had all day. Alright then - off with you.

Open

My wrists seem more fragile these days. When I go to do push-ups, they actually hurt, and I can't figure out why except that perhaps I just have to admit that I'm getting older. By the second, actually. With each passing moment that I breathe. Perhaps I need to take calcium tablets. Probably. But the thought of having to take another daily form of medication makes me cringe. What's next? Blood pressure pills? Anti-inflammatory ointments?

It's true. Youth is wasted on the young. We just didn't know what we had. Then we start noticing little things, like guests leaving a party. Instead of taking note, we continue our reckless journey and keep walking into the sun, and then we realize too late that we should have stopped to take note of where we were and what the hell were we thinking.

Alas, what a shame.

Alter Ego

I'm very close to becoming a chain smoking alcoholic. The only problem is, I really don't drink that much, but in my mind I'm a character from Barfly (a movie I've actually never seen, but you get the picture). I'm sitting on a wobbly bar stool, hunched over a fresh Bushmill's on the rocks. I'm pacing myself now because the night is still young, and I drank my first two way too fast. Now it's time to let that happy wave die down, just for a moment, then work on keeping myself in a nice state of numb bliss, ignorance reigning supreme. I'll be unaware of most things soon, except the poor individual who decides to sit next to me whom I'll pounce on with something like,"Whadda crappy night out, eh? Good thing we're in here. Ain't no better place to stay warm then Alberta's." And maybe they'll talk back. But most times, they don't, and I'm back to nursing my whiskey.