Libido Lobotomy

I feel I’m living libido lobotomy. My energy is either soaring or plunging. Sometimes it’s necessary to simply go with the flow of creative energy:

My mind raced, ran hot
Till I hit that vicious slick spot
Lost control really fast
Spun from being twisted
For several seconds believed I could fly
Till elation careened into cessation
And I braced for the pit stop sensation
Of pumping gas really fast
Closed my eyes, apologized
Unable to finish, assisted

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creative, energy, libido lobotomy, mind, poem, poetry

Doctor's Dimension, The

Making a doctor’s appointment is the equivalent of selling your soul because you lose all control over your life on the appointed day. Once you enter the land where time is forgotten, you’re lucky if you’re able to sleep, read or watch TV. If you’re still paying for faking sickness at school or work, you’ll have to sit elbow to elbow in the exit row, make a sick friend and have to pass through a series of time-locked chambers just to use the bathroom while reciting a family tree’s worth of medical history.

I’m convinced medical history forms were designed to make us grateful for just being able to finish and forget we entered a time vortex. Medical offices would do well to get Wi-fi to help mitigate the misery of the malady-laden since time management is merely an illusion created by the torture-driven practitioners of scheduling.

Now, whenever I have a doctor’s appointment, I’ve finally learned to make no other plans and simply join the cult of constant clock watchers who celebrate silently each time one is called to see the healer. I’ve also learned to come prepared with my computer, reading and writing material, water and snacks. I try to maintain a pre-postal mindset by considering it an actual visit, an excursion into the realm where time stands still in The Doctor‘s Dimension.

Related:
Patient-Centered Care, Hillary Clinton's Blood Clot, Concussion & An Insult To Common Sense

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doctor’s appointment, medical, satire, sick, time management, writing

Tired of Dreaming

I’ve dreamed enough. Wrapped my gifts with their purposes. Announced them to the world. Made myself accountable. Now, I’m tired of talking about: dreaming, pursuing the dream, living the dream…Just as I can’t talk and listen at the same time, neither can I walk and dream simultaneously.

Discussing dreams has limited value. I’m continuously shown that no matter what I do or say, others will summarize to suit themselves. In addition, they will take my plain and simple intent and surmise one of their own in a “there must be an ulterior motive” kind of way.

My brother’s unspoken and unheralded dream now exists in his reality. It is the daily, do-what-it-takes, direct result of each step it took to make it back on both tracks after 25 years. My dream of making a living as a writer and entrepreneur is now showing as a silent movie without color commentary.

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dreams, gifts, purpose, writer

Wasting Time

My biggest obstacles have been the lies I’ve told myself compounded by the half-truths I tried to hurdle but never could clear because their height changed no matter how high I attempted to jump.

Knowing this, I realized I could not accomplish my goals within the framework of my current life. There are things I have and must continue to change to remove spiritual energy drainers and replace them with sources that build and sustain. The most common change has affected an aspect of, and one or more entire relationships; however, my relationship with me must always be the first to come under scrutiny. See paragraph above.

Now that I’ve re-centered my life through cleansing and aligning my gifts with their purpose, I can attempt to accomplish something meaningful without it being a waste of time.

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energy, gifts, goals, lies, obstacles, purpose, relationships, spiritual, wasting time