(- Part 1 -)
You’ve all heard of the great Heart vs. Head battle. Well perhaps it is essentially because of this struggle that I’m at war with myself; – except mine involves less heart and more imagination… so it’s the clash between my Head vs. Imagination which takes charge of this deluded heart.
In this conflict however, there’s a fundamental problem; one lives within the other. Therefore, I live in a world with blurred lines intertwined; what I actually see with my eyes versus what I want to see with my mind. This world is a place regulated with changeable rules, governed by desires and idealisms, which do not depart through the barred doors of realism. I choose my minds eye to lead and blind myself to reality. But where I’ve chosen to move ahead with my imagination which transcends me to a place of infinite possibility, I find myself moored to the dock, chained to the place of my first dwelling. I’m a master of my own outcome on the one hand, but an immobilised and powerless pawn on the other.
I’m a captive who holds the key to my own prison door; the one that would allow me to go beyond just the theory of love/life/everything and towards the horizon. It is however, a key I’ve never attempted to use to escape with, because in a world where I’m anchored by inexperience, my imagination is liberating and sets me free…
I’m imprisoned by my only form of escapism.
So, the question is, do I continue to follow the manuscript of my mind where I’m stagnant and unmoved, yet free to wonder as I will? Or do I take myself beyond the shield and follow the lead of my head, where the air on my face is real yet the shackles of my feet weigh me down as I try to move forward and wander off into the real world..? Catch 22. “Great figure 8, or a tiny infinity…?”
(- Part 2 -)
For someone who’s never experienced love before, I’m always in love.
That’s not the best sentence to start off with; something contradictory and unfathomable, but it’s the God-honest truth; I’m in love with life and people and – kidding, I haven’t turned into a cliché just yet – I’m just in love with figments of my own fantasies I suppose. Granted they all begin with some sort of truth, usually the fictional or famous kind, but then the rest is all me and what I morph these ideas into.
Once I choose my target and cast them as my hero of the hour, I draw inspiration from their life; injecting parts of it within and then projecting it into the walls of my own mind. I adopt an internal view of an outsiders world… and in this enchanted place built up of their world and laced with my own perceptions and judgments of it, I fall in love; both with the idea of them and the narration of my version of them, so I guess…with myself…?
So actually, I would like to modify that statement of “I’m always in love”, and add this extension of “…with myself” – because let’s be honest, that’s what it becomes right…? The romantic gestures I gush at derive from what I’ve imagined. I infuriate myself with my own torturous thoughts. And the witty tête-à-tête conversations I think-up between me and my long-distance illusory loves are funny musings I tell myself. (What can I say, I do quite consider myself a humorous gal, though my friends will tell you otherwise. But hey, as my saying goes, I seek only to amuse myself.)
So, in the finishing folds of this rant, I’d hereby like to cast this hour as possibly my greatest moment of narcissism: I am constantly falling in love with designs of my own mind… aka, falling in love with myself. Flawed? Perhaps. But there you have it.
But for now I am my own story teller and I narrate my own tales… and all these little trips and falls that I’m no stranger to… these new places and characters I find myself co-creating, well, that’s my specialty… and this right here is my favourite sincere story: my Diary of a Deluded Heart.
Diary of a Deluded Heart
Written: October 4th 2012
Published: June 14th 2016