Day 275: 49th Parallel

Left and right brain coexist in turmoil with one another
Mr. Artist and Mr. Convention inhabiting the same turf
Owners and secret sharers of one existence
Living passages that sometimes make print while others depict a blessed destiny, privately
If they all knew me, how I know me
(how she knows me)
They might be surprised at the depth of the dichotomy between the two souls
Who inhabit this lump of sod and water, this bold sphere who happens to be me
A person who resolutely stands on a self-proclaimed pedestal of simple contradictions
Yet there will never be anything simple about me because I thrive on the complex
I take the difficult road and climb the hills while worrying about the valleys left in my wake
I train on the line of intricate and obscure
I don’t do easy well and even easy (for me) is spelled in the form of uncomplicated
I always question the answers and often answer the questions directly, always questioning myself after I’ve answered them
I sweep my mind of all possibility and when I have exhausted reason, I challenge logic – I never trust the given
I overthink the thought and yet make important decisions on whims where my heart takes the reins of my head’s navigation system
Laughter and tears inhabit the same moments and uncharacteristically find comfort in each other
I love fiercely and honestly and yet my words can mask all emotion with their nonchalance of tone
I’ve been accused of being callous and caring and all by the same people about seemingly similar situations
Where two lines intersect there should be a point, but in my case the lines never touch
Except where and when they do, and where and when they do, there is no visibility for outsiders
For all are outsiders – regardless of which parallel line is followed
Direct insight into my struggling psyche is not an easy ticket to score
You sit on the sidelines of my truths and if lucky, you see beyond my required masks
I am a frighteningly, awkward, complex, simple being on my personal journey toward fulfillment
Holding a valise of dreams and missions that require careful assembly
With no intention to open up the instruction manual for others or for myself
I envision the finished product and hope that I get the construction right
(Extra pieces will merely be discarded or repurposed)
As I make a pit stop today on the 49th rung of the years apportioned to my fortune
I thank the universe for the irreconcilable differences that support my two assigned life lines
Mr. Artist and Mr. Convention inhabiting the same turf
Owners and secret sharers of one existence and…
…juan birthday

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