The Ramblings of a Misunderstood Mind, Part 12 min read

I don’t know why my mind races. As I sit here, uncom­fort­able because my stomach is in knots, and my thoughts won’t shut down. All I want to do is rest my body down in the overused pil­lowtop mat­tress, and just sink into noth­ing­ness.

But here I am. Thinking about the world, and pol­i­tics, and won­dering why my anx­iety is through the roof. The world around me is full of walking ani­mals that react without thinking, feel so much there’s no room for logic any­more, and are more likely to turn a blind eye than help another human being.

I’ve spent years, just watching people. Unable to open myself up, and too kind to stand up for myself. I’ve seen what hap­pens with beau­tiful kind­ness and utter ugli­ness. Nothing ever sur­prises me any­more. And that’s sad, because I love the good sur­prises.

The stranger, holding the door for you, greeting you as if you were close neigh­bors. It’s really easy. You give them a gen­uine smile, say good morning, and you hope that it is rec­i­p­ro­cated. Everyone gen­er­ally likes to be noticed and val­i­dated. We all want to know we’re here for a reason.

What does it take to be kind? Why are the man­ners they tried to embed in us so easy to shrug off today? Have we for­gotten our­selves, in our mad rav­ings and over­load of input and infor­ma­tion? We’re so drowned in our dig­ital age we’ve actu­ally for­gotten how to live.

Is your life enjoy­able when you’re always in a state of fear or anger about things you cur­rently have no con­trol over nor which really affect your daily lives? I’m starting to see a pat­tern, in myself anyway. The more I read the news, or I hear some really toxic report, the worse I feel phys­i­cally.

We all know stress is hor­rible on the body. And yet, we are con­stantly bom­barded by it. Then you add the barely-nutritional-thing-they-pass-as-food lightning-fast-service meals we stuff our mugs with, and you’ve got a rail­road track right off a cliff.

I don’t know about you, but I love my job. But it’s high stress. I’ve got enough in my daily life not to need more fac­tors feeding into my sur­missed psy­chosis. It’s gotten to a point that all I crave is the out­doors and no neigh­bors. That’s not how you live.

People are really community-based. They are their health­iest when they interact and are under­stood. The amount of polit­i­cally extremist people I deal with daily is to be admired. And yet, not one has started demeaning me or going into some unin­tel­li­gible rant.

I don’t project myself as a threat. I try to engage every person I meet, as if I’m saying, “Hello there. I know you exist. Glad you do.” Wouldn’t that be great? Peace for everyone because you’re glad there are others just living their lives?

Helpful tip: col­orful clothes and let­ting your hair decide the tilt of the day, or a neat fedora that youths you like twenty years can go a long way with making a smile.

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5 Comments

  1. Mr. Vormaen,
    You write your feel­ings so well. Congrats.
    [from Another Enigma]

    Carbon Bridge

  2. Here is a unique enigma

  3. “Or a neat fedora that youths you like twenty years can go a long way with making a smile.”

    I reread it lots and I cannot make any sense of it — am I mis­reading it, or is it a typo in there some­where?

    1. Author

      Perception of self. I’m a silly person in RL. People seem to like that. And my per­sonal style. Again, late night Ramblings.

  4. These ram­blings make me want to hear more, know more about you. They artic­u­late very relat­able expe­ri­ences. Looking for­ward to your next con­tri­bu­tion!

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