Mind Doodles

I'm seated.

There's something happening to my mind. It is that sort of a think (not a thought) that I hardly have a liking for. I am blaring on blatantly like my mind is going to explode; like I am getting lost and like I don't make sense; or like everything else lacks sense. What is happening to me is happening far away from my nearness.

I am held in two worlds - two good worlds, and dude! I want to enjoy and still be able to hate both. I pause. I think. Loudly. "What am I really doing?" I ask myself. "Well, I am seated and I am, er, thinking. Yeah, I am seated, thinking", I answer myself. Yeah, that is what I am doing. But I am feeling empty. I don't like it. I don't like feeling tired and empty - all at the same time. I mean, I should be full of life, right? Yeah, I should. It should be the best thing to do. So what? Mmmmhhh... I push that one question at the back of my mind and choose to move on...

It is getting hot. It is like the sun has just made a stop over my head. It is making my tired thinking and my body to metamorphose into, er, never mind... I don't like it anyway... I stretch.   

I am now standing.

I am thinking of random things. Thinks are passing through my mind. (Think is a word I use when cloning things and thoughts within my mind. It is a doodle-ish word...;)) I am thinking of climbing hills, and steeping through valleys, and gliding cliffs, and treading deserts, and skating roads, and glaciers, and dusty paths, and misty lands... in life. I am far away. I can see it. I am making colors out of my worlds. I now wish that I was a master painter. Then I would paint this moment with passion. I would assemble and awaken all the dead embers of my passion; then I would hold my brush, and my paint, and look at the pointed edge of the brush and flicker the paint at the edge of the paint card so that to get just the right amount... and I would create portraits and portraits that are replicas of this moment... I can only imagine my disarray. No, I can't. I don't even know what I am doing. Or maybe I do. Maybe.

I am now squatting.

I am like an observatory - standing tall but squatting... I am clinchy. I am racy. I am quiet. I am asking questions. I am inquisitive. I am pretending to be normal. But I am busy. Busy is not normal. So, I am trying to relax while still squatted. I am thinking. I am having mind doodles. I want to run. And hide. And run again. And avoid people. I want to be alone - alone and squatted. I feel slightly insane.

The wind is whizzing through my ears. Its sound is obnoxious. The moment is freezing. And disturbing. I am perspiring. First it was the heat from the sun, and now the wind. It is drying up sweat on my face... I am mixed up. As I take out my handkerchief to wipe away the dead sweat, I am asking myself, "For how long have I REALLY been here?" Well, never mind.

I long to hide from my doodles. I stare at what I am holding. I am holding nothing. My palm and hand are empty. I stare at my empty palm. It looks and feels dry. I put my right hand (the one I just stared at) into my pocket. My phone is missing. Pause. "Where did I leave it?" "Aaaarrrrgh!" I calm down. I stare again, just as I did when I was seated and later while I was standing.

I am now standing.

Then I am walking.

I am thinking.

I am thinking again.

"These thinks do happen", I think.