Things are not always

There's a strange sort of delirium I have, especially when I'm feverish and have the flu. When I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams - the sort that you have full mental capacity in, but struggle to discern from reality.

I'm not sure, really, that this doesn't cascade into my non-feverish life, where I suffer these ideas and romances (especially about what I want to do in and with my life), that are curiously divorced from my own realities.

Work is an obvious fever here. My mind oscillates wildly between the ideas of working hard and honestly to earn a working man's hard-earned wage which is saved and spent, and the idea of work as a dusted mindlessness that shouldn't be given a second huff in a facadey¹ world that will end pretty soon before real life begins. When my consciousness grabs hold of the tendrils of one, it seems to lose and forget about the other completely, having me swing quite wildly between happy productive worker bee, and esoteric aloofness.

I am not carelessly forgetful or absent-minded, but I do struggle to remember philosophies and manifestos as I get distracted with my days. And so, apart from being generally agreeable and kind, I tend to fall short on enacting principles that aren't derived from common sense.

Not that I'm insincere or hypocritical to them; just that I get distracted very easily.

On some level, this makes me a fantastically awful person. But it's easily defended when you're generally nice and pleasant. You don't have to have sophisticated manifestos to navigate social scenes.

Think of yourself, right now, as being in constant fever. With your brain burning hotly and madly, and to your consciousness, obliviously. Confusing nonsensical sensations parading as moments of seeming clarity and meaning.

Makes you want to dance a little sillily², huh?

Footnotes:

1. Not a real word.
2. Also not a real word