With your feet in the air and your head on the ground

I can't discern whether my thoughts are progressing at a pace that's too fast to comprehend fully, or maybe it's the balance of my mind itself that is fooling me. It's all too familiar in its disheveling nature, the stereotypical whirlwind that provides me with the most lush and overwhelming emotions.  I have a hard time feeling content with myself when I am this way, but it also feels so much more valid. Well, valid in the sense that I catch myself before I start getting too comfortable to the point of wasting away or never advancing myself. Valid in the sense that I make sure that -I- stay valid, true, awake.

There's a loop I keep falling into, one where I feel frustrated that I am not living my potential, and that ends up having the counter-effect of demotivating, thus causing more frustration. All I can do is smash little things, little easy to smash things, easy to cut strings, and every little smash, every little cut is one more obstacle gone that wasn't even there in the first place. It's just been a battle in my head the whole time. I want to do it all, and the massive nature of this thought makes it a mountain, rather than many smaller hills. This thought process drawn out into words is one hill traipsed.

This episode has been ignited by the passing of someone I never knew. Shannon Larratt had a brainchild that has affected me, but I feel it is odd for me to be this jostled and moved by the death of someone I never met. I almost feel a bit silly, really. There's this odd pile of events and emotions that built up when I started reading about him, his death, and his last words, though. Not only are those last words incredibly uplifting, they are absolutely crushing. A pat on the back and a slap in the face.  I wanted to break them down and really think and write about them, but I can't bring myself to read it again at the moment. There is a certain chord that has been struck in me that I hadn't heard for a while, and it's one that's been a little discordant for a while- our modified family. The one that cares little about what you do to your body, just that you embrace it as your own.

Where is my mind?