The burning tendrils of mutiny begin to rise, forming columns in the landscape. Or in my mind’s eye anyway. Mirages of marble, ivory, granite float into existence. A short circuit in the right hemisphere of my brain, sparks off the beginnings of what looks like the Parthenon. Hold on a second, the glitch has to be in the left side doesn’t it? That’s the one that’s supposed to be all wired up, with processes and logic systems in place. Of course, how silly of me. The right side of my brain has me running around in the Secret Garden, with silver shoes powered up to fly, correction help me glide to my next destination.
Creak, Whirr, Flicker. Lights flash wildly. Malfunction. Uh oh. A shaky Parthenon, what looks like crumbling pillars of limestone focus and blur in and out of my perspective. Apollo, you have a problem. Greece, you’ve got some more. Is this what sank Atlantis?
My brain is unable to balance its hemispheres for equilibrium. Then again, how can there be equilibrium with Ancient Greece and an imaginary jardin in the same frame?
Daffodils, petunias, phlox are lined up all along the little bridge that crosses the brook. The gently gurgling brook. Fresh blades of grass in a Spanish wave. I sit in the middle of the bridge, skimming pebbles off the lazy bubbles in the stream. The light reflects off my long, straight hair.
Pick a side, says a voice in my head. Choose a personality. Live a life.
June 15, 2012
Flotsam and jetsam 