New Ideas

All I have are new ideas to keep me alive. I live in the daily milleu of old ideas, old desires, old expectations and old age symptoms. I have no doubt that one causes the next. Mind body and soul specialists would argue this point with varying intelligence but I'll simply mention the point and leave it to you to accept. I've lost my thrill for proving, because proving proven points is like doing the same workout every day, after awhile you actually aren't even doing yourself a favour.

The tears streaming from my lids to my chin dissolve more truth on their path than my words do on theirs. Luckily for me, they waited until this late hour, where nobody can see tears in the office. Everyone by now is at home laughing. My tears are like an obedient pet, they don't ask to be let out until it's convenient for me to do so. Again, they serve me better than my words.

What to do with old ideas - if I don't stop them now, my ankle will never get better, my back will never get better, my wrist, my knees - for as long as I subscribe to the idea that I am accomplished, that I have achieved something, that I have an inherent value hidden beneath layers of shame, I will continue to hurt. I will continue to lose sleep wondering why I'm here and not there, and I will continue to wake up each morning more tired than when I went to bed. I go to bed with old ideas and wake up to find them missing. Every morning is a mental scramble to find out how I might find them today. Where could they be? Could they be in the office, in the parking lot, near the subway down the street, in my room. I wonder where I would have to go and what I would have to do to finally get back in touch with the idea that I'm on the right track.

Today I think I realize that one night when I went to sleep all of my ideas for the future became ideas I had in the past. They're so beyond being ideas now. They existed, they were real, they happened, they were held and celebrated and then discouraged. They gave rise to the man that is at his desk tonight, but all of my ideas are old ones, set down on old paper as a script that I will act out this year. This year has no hidden actor's notes, no intriguing stage directions such as [with suprise] or [with eagerness and joy]. At least the next 6 months will be the resounding yet plainly delivered soliloquy, cue the saxophone and then exit stage left. I won`t stay for curtain call, I`m tired of this play. I need a new script, which means new ideas. I need a new scrpt and new ideas to persevere.

I`m going back to school.