Capricious

47 - Mosaic Mind

"I am a dreamer. I know so little of real life that I just can't help re-living such moments as these in my dreams, for such moments are something I have very rarely experienced. I am going to dream about you the whole night, the whole week, the whole year."
- Fyodor Dostoevsky

Tell me your dreams, tell me of your childhood, tell me of your life growing up, tell me your greatest achievement, tell me about your favourite things, tell me what scares you, tell me about your friends, tell me who your role-model is, tell me what your perfect day would be, tell me your deepest regret, tell me what superpower you would like the most, tell me who you would want to play you in a film, tell me where you want to travel to, tell me what your favourite music is, tell me what your most valued possession is, tell me your strengths, tell me your weaknesses, tell me about your most embarrassing moments, tell me if you believe in aliens, tell me your favourite scent, tell me about your favourite books, tell me about your favourite films, tell me your philosophy, tell me what you want to know about me, tell me where you would time travel to, tell me your favourite things to eat, tell me your dream job, tell me about your family, tell me what you would change about yourself, tell me what animal you would be, tell me what you would wish for, tell me what you think the meaning of life is, tell me how you feel about me, tell me your deepest fear, tell me how you lost your virginity, tell me about your first love, tell me what turns you on, tell me what position you like the most, tell me how to pleasure you, tell me the worst thing you've ever done, tell me about your best memory, tell me about your worst memory, tell me your deepest secrets, tell me every little thought you have. Tell me, for even then I will not know you as much as I desire.

For if I can't live, then dreaming is my favourite thing to do, awake or asleep, it's all the excitement I can get, when there is no one that wants to live alongside me.

I get enjoyment from the completion of tasks, however small, such that large tasks are better off portrayed as several small ones, for I tire easily, for nothing can hold my attention long, I will desire change, something different, which is why single important tasks so often lead to procrastination.

Then there's that time halfway between sleep and wake, slipping in and out of dreams, that juxtaposes so violently the excitement of dreams and the emptiness of life, such that dreams are grieved and life is forsaken.

I'd say I could change this, but I can't, it's as if I have settled into a world of robots, where no one responds in kind, and no one is at all like me.

For lack of need or want, I'm dying in front of responsibility, for any temporary satisfaction.

Rushing through everything, to get to nothing, I need to slow my mind.

I'm dreaming about her nights at a time, my mind wants her back however it can, willing me to play a card that another side of me would deem as desperation. I can't help but envy my dreams, dreams where she is mine in every way, dreams where we are unafraid to show affection, dreams where we play together with the hysterical excitement of our younger selves, free to let go of convention and etiquette and law. There is no use in denying, in suppressing it, my mind is addicted to her, every reverie a fix delivering such sweet release, to take me away from lonely nights and colourless days.

Then as it must come, in pushing myself to successive successes, springing from one thing to the next, pushing to the rush. I feel so smooth, so good, so lively; some sunlight reaching through the clouds, worthy enough, helping others delivering me some purpose. I want to burst into life, into whatever chances come my way. If only I can sustain this desire, this interest. I have no musts, now playing a waiting game, a temporary reprieve where I can bask in the luminosity of my day dreams without facing condemnation from my ambition or my envy, until the inevitable death that looms so near comes to claim me once again.

I fear my confidence is rising and falling too often through the thresholds that are appropriate, such that it affects what I do, with a liveliness uncalled for, or a melancholy that poisons all I do.

She has much more going on than I, and my envy of that makes me desire her even more. I feel disheartened that I can't find such attraction here in my world. Of a life packed so full, no time to think, under such motivating pressure. Without it, without cause or desire or camaraderie, with less to do, my productivity dies, and my mind resorts to distracting itself with memories, dreams and darkness. I need more, if I had it I would be so much better, I know it, I just can't do it alone. I need to be busy, I need to be changing, I can't be bore down by a single mountain, it is too much for my attention to hold. I can't be jealous, can't resent, can't be so pathetic. I need to live and let live.

This place just doesn't feel right, it's too silent, too bland, too plain, I don't belong anywhere here.

We just can't belong together in this world, we're now too different people that the last, it's just what I feared, we're puppets to our lives.

My brain can't hold on to anything I try to learn, spilling all before it can set root in my mind, no nutrients to help it grow. I've changed too much, now I must act in every present, adding piece by piece whenever desire may choose to show.

All clear in my mind, then sudden I lose it all, and I can no longer think, resigning to digression, not even understanding what I knew just days before. My mind is going to shit.

And just like that, everything I felt for her, seems apart from me, as if it was all a blip, there's nothing left, I've had enough. Space and time leaving the past requiring a pinch of salt.