Madmind

     Sometimes we all feel like the loneliest person in the planet. I know when I do, I really believe nobody could feel this way and bear this amount of pain. Once in one of my terrible heartbreaks as a teenager I actually said I prefered to feel physical pain and torture than feel what I was feeling. Dark, I know. Obviously my rational mind knows it's not true. Everybody hurts and everybody suffers, but I guess the levels are different. I think the main question is whether you believe that it's temporary, whether you know it's not the end of the world and whether you have some sort of comfort in your life to weather the dark tunnel. 

   I think of myself as someone who likes to be alone, but I think the truth is I don't like to be around most people because they trigger me in some way related to my past. Basically, I like it when I get away from the overbearing mind stimulation of social masks and I feel like I can breathe freely, which mostly happens when I'm alone. It's kind of a way of escapism, and it works. I think my perfect scenario is just to be in the same space with someone without any concerns, and that is very hard for an unsettled mind. We're always doing the math, seeing if everything is ok and preparing for the eventuality or disaster to happen. 

   Being alone can be restful when I'm escaping but it can also be terrifying when it's just my state of being at the moment simply because there is no one there. My mind sometimes is my greatest foe, taking me to uncertain pits of despair in a blink of an eye like a madman... or madmind. It's the fear of the things... fear of fear, fear of sadness, fear of despair, fear or hopelessness, fear of abandonment, you get the point. Like I said: madmind. The hyper neurotic, the extreme catastropher, the ruthless critic, the abusive relationship. All the familiar voices of my past take up their spaces with such ease, it feel useless to fight back, even though I know they aren't real.

   There is some poetry in being mad, but only when you make it into poetry. When you allow your inner world to play its game, but you don't engage. You just watch it like a bad, cringy comedy, and clap all the end. Maybe you even add to it with sarcasm and give it more rope to hang itself with. Eventually everybody and everything gets tired. It's a wonderful feeling to be tired and finally rest. For some people they can just stop and rest without having to observe the horror show, but maybe their rest isn't as sweet as mine. 

   There is nothing better than calm. There is nothing better than nothing. Only when there is nothing, can we begin writing a script for a new movie, not a perfect life, but at least real. A movie in which we are the protagonist of our own story, with agency and choice. Only by befriending the madmind in the moments of solitude can we embrace our madness and laugh at it all, laugh until we cry and until we get tired and can rest. rest.