Well the day can turn into certain disaster when you are the servant and your mind is the master.
you become the director of a tragic play where none of the actors see it your way.
Struck in your head with your arrogant snob; you think he would think himself out of a job. He's betting, stringly, paranoid, and he would fire the jerk but he's self employed.
You had about all yourself you can take and you begin to plan this prison break, you get yourself busy figuring something out and you get out of your head and begin to shout "Help me I am drowning on the inside of my face.
Woke up from tha nap with brain stem all over the place.
Down boy, sit, roll over and stay, does anybody know psycho Feng Shui.
So you drag yourself to a mental physician because your brain is struck in the ON position, and he shakes his head at your furtive stare and says "never be alone in there".
Everything you say is misunderstood because your mind is like a bad neighorhood.
Maybe it's back there from your psychoactive
years or you might have stripped some important gears. It's dark in there and dangerous too when all the little voices are telling you what to do.
I think it's damaged way beyond fixing as some parts are broken and some are missing.
"Help me I am drowning on the inside of my face". Something in me snapped and now I'm being erased.
They're launching a frontal attack. Anybody, somebody help me get myself back as I am trapped on the inside of my face.
Turns out the reality is a collective hunch for it's view gathered in a crunch.
People with opinions, believe in one another until it's brain against brain and brother against brother, and the chips on that big main frame, but it's hard to find when I'm thinking with this brain, and no amount of thinking can find this place.
When the brain stem is in control of the face; when all the little voices are driving and you believe everything you think with your brain; and your true whereabouts remain unknown because the lights are on and everybodys home.
the real me is kidnapped and this imposter is taking his place.
So be afraid, very afraid of reptilian gangleates rolled up under the inside of my face.
the bigger the front, the bigger the back, reality is causing stress.
Out of my mind leave a message, leave a message. I tired to contain myself yet I escaped.
Song taken from my Mile High CD "the Sanctary Sessions" 2003 by Chuch Pyle.

Vonda,

WHEW!

So grateful that those kinds of days are fewer and further between lately . . .

Just reading this leaves me feeling exhausted! And desiring some quiet meditation. Or a soak in the hot tub. Or some soft music and a good book.

The mind is a funny thing . . .

Yeh! Me too. It was such a neat Ah Yah Moment.