The heart aside, the mind is a genius. Think of it like you are a slave and your mind its master. Mysteries of my mind are in the dark. And I have no clue of the plans it carves out for me..wierd bunch of miracles, good and bad. It makes illusions seem real and reality seem distant. Sometimes it makes me feel there is no strict line between what I imagine and what is. My mind steals the remnant of my sanity. Locks me in a dark room for days and lets me free on an unexpected sunday evening. And the hooliganism I am capable of after that long an isolation, it is very well aware of. These dirty tricks I tell you. Now it just sits in a corner and watches over me as I paint myself red.
3 comments:
The mind! But then the observer is the observed isn't it?
What one imagines IS what is real; reality is subjective.
It is not the mind that watches, but the 'self' observing the 'persona'.
What is the difference between 'paint myself red' and 'painting the town red'?
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