Gray Days, Gray Thoughts, and the Approach of Spring

The winter dusk is gray and dreary, the bluejays silent, the sun hidden below the horizon to the point of being beyond reflecting a "sunset" but still present enough to prevent the gray from becoming the black of night. I have taken several minutes to reread some of my former blogs and, while they definitely reflect many of my thoughts, feelings, experiences, and opinions, there is not really any one central theme; much like my life and mind, I suspect.

Not only have I always "felt" the weather, I have also always had a continuity of racing and bizarre thoughts to contend with on an almost daily basis, but today they have been thankfully silent. I have never had another person, at least one not considered mentally ill, mention that they, too, have thoughts that sometimes arrive in vast quantity and diversity, like a mental tidal wave, that have at times threatened to overwhelm them or, at best, merely kept them from falling asleep as expediently as they might wish. What this means is that, as far as the massive influx of seemingly random thoughts that I experience from time to time, I have no way to gauge whether this is "normal," or "within acceptable limits," or "pretty, frigin' strange." (Please feel free to get back to me on this, anyone of you who may happen upon my blog now and then.)

On the other hand, I do have a lot of fun, though rarely, of doing a sort of "free association" type of writing that can take me on adventures without ever having to leave my desk or home. They can take the form of any sort of story you might imagine and usually fade after a paragraph or two, but that is because they take a great deal of mental energy and I am growing increasingly conservative with my mental energy as I slowly begin to gather the dust of advancing middle age.

Izzlebug and the Martians

Once upon a time there was a child who had no clue she would ever be known by the name of "Izzlebug" after she had grown up, which was just as well because she was much more sober as a child than she is able to be as an adult, having discovered within herself a perverse sense of humor and a delight in the odd, unexpected, or downright strange. However, it was all of these things that have helped her in her dealings with the extraterrestrials who she has discovered living in her home in the form of molds, mildews, mice, book-eating beetles, dust mites, clothes-munching moths, and on occasion her boyfriend, but that is only when the Martians invade his mind when he is too tired to prevent them from encroaching. The way Izzlebug discovered these beings was simple enough, some of them make her sneeze. Who would have known a plain, old(er) person would be allergic to extraterrestrials?

Most of the time Izzlebug, her boyfriend, and their family of cats manage to live in peace with these invaders from another planet, but once in awhile one or more of them decides to take their true form and then havoc can ensue because the Martians' natural form is the same in structure and substance as that of human emotions, and sometimes not very nice ones. Fortunately, the incursions are few and no longer as successful as they once were and Izzlebug is hoping all of the Martians will eventually get so bored they decide to invade someone else's home.

The End

There you have it; the evidence. Of what I am not quite sure but there it is in black and white. Have a lovely evening and watch out for Martians - they're everywhere!