Insidious Adaptation

A squirrel runs up a tree, a scattering of tiny claws on bark. Another one closely follows. Ah, a chase is what is happening here. The mind makes a little story, there must be mating involved, maybe a fight. Maybe, that squirrel is a child and there is play. Do squirrels play?  The edges of the mouth, their familiar patters, the lips stretch across the front, curl up at the ends. Cheeks seem to have less room now, and in combination with eye muscles tightening, they are both lifted and pushed out. The face of innocence, for the mind allowed itself to wander to a dimension of childlike wonder. We could turn this into a nature lesson, gain understanding about how squires work, after all my phone is in my pocket and google is pretty efficient. However, no, this moment will stay just like this. Plus, I don’t care that much. “Uh, I can’t do it, it’s broken.” Screams a child doing in her mind what she was told. “Sweetheart, just push down,” As dad lifts his own foot and pushes on th...

The neurons are taking a break today. Whether it be the catch or the release in the synapse, or maybe even further down in the manufacturing department, there is a lack of something. I would say too much, however, I am familiar with this feeling. I am more insightful than to assume this is anything new, anything I am unfamiliar with, anything that I don’t already take medications for due to my apparent lack thereof. Even in this familiarity, there is a sense of nostalgia for a life I may have had without it, without this.  The feeling cannot be explained, or even fully understood, is all it can be is acknowledged and appreciated to some degree. Yes, I did mean appreciated. Appreciation for the “good” and the “bad” feelings, is really all I have left to do here, the only thing that matters, and the only thing worth wasting my time on. I could moan and groan, say poor me, or try to cover with caffeine or other things, but yet, underneath it all, it's still me. I am not defined b...