I am sitting in front of the laptop, trying to write a coherent string of words, something interesting that would want to be read, and what is coming out reads more like a riddle.
I can’t seem to vocalise what is going on in my brain, it makes no sense to me, why would anyone else want to understand it.
Funny thing is, I actually like riddles and puzzles, my Dad used to find and set them for me as I was growing up, he still sends them to me now, perhaps that is a sign that I am yet to grow up?
I believe that he used to curse me, as all of the logic based puzzles, those with numbers, or pictures, would be completed within seconds. Words would be far more complex, even last week, it was highlighted that in one of the pieces I had edited, I used the word piece, instead of peace…. I hate dyslexia sometimes, even if mine is apparently not that bad. I just can’t see glaring errors, right in front of me.
Numbers however make sense. They always have, they bring peace (yes, not piece) within my manic brain.
Even now if you send me a puzzle like this;
In moments I will be smiling.
I am über competitive so I will also be scurrying off to try to solve it, but when I do I will feel a warm satisfying glow.
I also like to expand my view of what is in front of me. Optical illusions are a pictorial representation of this, multiple views within the same image.
Life can be seen in many ways, depending on what you want. Depending on what your heart desires; but at the end of the day, is it all an illusion? Or is it just what it is. Wake, get through the day, tire and sleep. Precious minutes in between to cram with smiles and cuddles, reminders that you are alive and an individual, that you own a brain, and you haven’t forgotten how to use it.
Real life, grown-up life, seems to be more of a maze; often easy to complete when looking from above, though even if perfectly aware of what needs to be accomplished, usually far more complex on the ground.
Here’s to being able to solve the puzzle that is life… any answers most appreciated.