Forward thinking and movement are ambiguous and challenging terrains when negotiating the paths. When it comes to balancing the mind and body with reality there is rarely a clear map that shows us the best way. Rarely does this dance have a precise step. Even if you have found your rhythm the music changes.
It's often that the mind and gut speak to each other and difficult to find which is in command as emotion and knowledge intertwine. As these two sway to the rhythm of our ancestral senses. Our blood work and genetics. Identity and place in the world.
When it comes to desire I often think it's my gut that speaks loudest as that's where I have the most rattle. Where the disorientation dwells as the rhythm and rhyme play out. Logic and knowledge forsaken. No stoic quote still cannot save me as love beats my intestines with no obvious metronome.
This is how our bodies work as we attempt to navigate the world. Morphing in a minefield of information we survive, the fittest.
This disorientation is especially true to this era. Though the topic is not desire the rattle is the same. Moving back and forth from brain to gut we try to make sense of what's being played. Of what's being dictated to us. As if language is a musical note from someone who can't hold a tune. Dancing to their own drum. Mindless to the fact that the party is winding down as we look on embarrassed by their perceived drunken behavior.
Our only savior from our selves and these times is the knowing. The knowledge that with our inner complexities and our outer realities we have a voice. A voice that creates the rhythm, speaks to the rhyme and can soften the inner rattle. A voice so loud it echoes in its depth and puts to shame the tweet of a bird.