The Intelligence of Synapse

The Human Brain is a complex thing.  Its victorious array of mercurial synapses and neuroses act as missiles that abate and/or delay any solid happily thriving idea, relation, or chance to prosper without stop.  Our diverse range of likes and dislikes, phobias, past experiences and histories, doubts, pride… thwart the easy act of acting.

We flounder helplessly in a pool of our own indecision, denial, fears, comforts, lazinesses… and nearly drown.

Perhaps if we were robots, all of our idiosyncratic problems would be solved…

We wouldn’t be sitting and staring at a placid computer screen, our fingers poised on the letters, f-u-c-k—t-h-i-s—j-o-b, our lids drooping with the pregnancy of boredom, exhaustion, complacency and pain with our this-is-not-my-dream lives.  Why can’t we jump up from said position, fingers outstretched and headed for the nearest exit…. where they continues fingering the walls and doorways of our loathed and no longer bethrothed offices, down the gentle stairs, fingering the dewy paint and finally the abrasive street and warm air outside of us… Why do so many humans find themselves in the midst of middle age, all dreams leashed at their feet and limp like a dying dog, pining to be let out to play.  Why do so many of us do this to ourselves?

I watched as my parents slaved for my entire young life, berating their jobs, finding no joy in waking up in the morning; arriving home in the evening finding nothing much to talk about.  The lucid alabaster passions that come easily as a youth had been smashed and eroded; and had been replaced by greyer, more dimly lit memories of dreams, as if obscured by glass in museums of themselves.

We dream.  We live once, yet so so so many of our predecessors, peers, and descendants did not and will never get beyond the cerebral part of dreaming to the manifestation.  We live once.  We live once.  We die once.  Excuses, fears, and doubts may make you fraught with indignation.  Go for him, go for the team, go for the big job, weasle around “working your way up”, go on American Idol, ditch your second car to buy that lakeside retreat you’ve always longed for, apply for that artist’s grant, take that ceramics class, submit to The New Yorker, erase that picture of that guy you think will come back and try someone new, talk to that strange, yet alluring stranger, put away the bourbon and go for that run, stop making excuses for her, buy that cookbook and learn, try that wheatgrass juice, stop thinking this new girl might be like the last and give her a chance, go and see that opera, tell that secret you’ve been hiding for twelve years, hang upside and laugh like a kid, visit their grave, leave your bad husband, get your headshots taken and send it in already……………………………………….

the world is waiting.


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