Blue skies, green hills

The mind is an interesting place to live when you can’t shut down...it tries desperately to form gravity in 5th dimensional space, in order to ground itself to something stable and more concrete. In the absence of such a plane, one ponders things like quantum entanglement and cymatics and the prevalence of the golden ratio in both the natural world and art. Fascinating queries for daylight hours, not so much when trying to rest. While the night is richly alive with color, the day is painfully bland, as the frigid earth is neatly tucked in with a vast blanket of white.

These days, several of my contemporaries are trying to thwart the polar downs with aggressive socializing, and they’re trying to loop me in it too. I really appreciate that they wanna hang out and what not, but I don’t quite know how to tell them I’m not mentally up for it. I’ll say “I’m not feeling well”, and they believe it’s anything from a cold to tummy troubles, and I never really seem to correct them...

Writing for the Nebraska blog has honestly been cathartic and wonderful, but even that has been under scrutiny lately. Dear “friends” coming out of the woodwork, doing everything from presenting themselves as competition to discrediting who I write for to questioning my motives and the city I love. Maybe that’s what has me jaded and a little distrustful. Why can’t I just zip out of this reality and step into a more beautiful one? Last night I dreamt of bright blue skies and lush green hills, tall grasses kissed by sunlight and waving in the breeze.

What is the purpose of being a dreamer in a world racked in reality? I wonder.