The mind is like a rabbit

Ninjas: 20th Century janissaries or a threat to public decency? You decide.

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The mind, it’s like a rabbit - forget to feed it for a week and it dies.
Holiday’s over. Back to work. Cake on my mind, graham crackers, pasta - the kissing and the singing and the thought that if her boyfriend finds out, you’re dead. My thoughts, they revolve around me, teasing and prodding me here and there. It disturbs me from the convos, it takes me away from the TV. HD is good, but if you don’t finish this thing, you’ll be nothing.
Work, goddamit, work! It says. Continue the fight, just for a bit. Just look at the damn thing. Just look, you damn thing! I didn’t.
And now here we are, lard in the head.
Move, move! It says. You have to do what you have to do. But the mind is just… fucking Santa! Going into chimneys and shit, watching out for sleeping kids, drinking all the cookies, eating the milk. Someone should arrest this guy.
Aha! Humor. There are you are. It’s misplaced - like that key you left in the other pocket. Or in the other jacket?
Type type type. Wake it up! Move, move! Time slides, it shifts, and you’re nothing but a wave in space. Do something!

Buying is sensation based.
Snap, snap, think, type, power is overrated! Ninjas in flight, ballerinas in a fight… good Lord.
Fear is diarrhea, and ‘fuck it’ is your imodium.
Think, think! Move!

It never ends, never! We’re a perpetual machine. Like clockwork, we all move, gears, cogs, grinding each other down, endlessly… balls in space, silver, shiny, rolling and never ending.
Take it! Grab it by the nuts and show it who’s boss!
Balls!

The mind is like a rabbit. It jumps and hops and where it stops, fucking who knows. Oh, and it leaves droppings everywhere.

This seems like a fun ride; let us go on this one!

P.S. I am here for the beer and I do not see any… :angry-cussing:

:obscene-drinkingcheers:

The mind is like a rabbit, it runs away at the first sight of weird. Its little white tail flashes up, RUN THE FUCK AWAY!
Going to the library, one tries to find what one’s looking for - but the books have moved. Volumes on fixing cars and health has been relegated to the basement, while shaved headed teens and the non-pregnant pregnant browse myspace. Checking up on friends? They stare at black and white pictures of posing emos with their suburban dilemmas. Below, Zarathustra sleeps as some Germans do, no more promising or oaths.
And chairs are weird; by their very existence they promulgate the sitting-down position so unmade for men. If you make a hole on top it’s a toilet. If you put wheels below it’s a wheelchair. If you stand on it seek help, and Dr. Phil is not the answer.

But the thing still sleeps, ADDRESS IT! The words rot and melt, while the walls around them grow none the thinner. Attempts to nourish it are lame at best; Time, once again, props its dull tin head. It rattles.

Boil wine to make hot tea. At 5; do add sugar; do not kill the spirits. Raisins are proportionate to the girlishness of the other person - more for more.

The mind can also be like “Snoopy” who likes to sit on top of his little house and takes the time to look up at the stars and to ponder the universe.

I am sure little rabbits do this too. They enjoy taking their time eating their grass and not worrying about when they will get to eat it again. And they take the time to romp around with their friends enjoying what they see around them.

The mind can be like the rabbit if it lives in the moment, stops worrying, takes some deep breaths and just enjoys…

I also think that if we forget to feed the mind for a week, it is probably healthier and more flexible in thought, unlike the rabbit, who may or may not die within a week of not having eaten.

The mind, it’s like a rabbit, focused only on what it’s front of it and never wondering what’s behind it.
White flashing tail predicates itself on the sacrifice of one for the preservation of others; one doubts if the preservation of others is worth the sacrifice of itself. Not when others run and never remembers, always forgets, disregards and never maintains certain words, certain deeds, certain understood niceties that now must be taken back, exacted, tribute from tributaries, rebellious protectorates always crushed.

People come and they fade, the laughters and the smiles they fade, and all that’s left is the light from behind, swirling and tumbling faster than the mind can process; a mere rabbit caught in the headlights of something new and totally unexpected, something that whirrs and hums and whispers of a future enveloped only in pain while baiting with a pretty fucking heavy carrot, bobbing and dangling and promising the moon; one gets the dirt, ad astra per aspera, but there’s no fucking stars, only a mere speck in one’s telescope, perhaps a weather balloon, sending its signals long forgotten and long unneeded.

Unheeded, swirling, jumping, scratching one with the other, sitting, black with a white line bisecting it, dividing, creating an entirely new dimension with entirely new pledges from the bisection - confusion at the top and creation at the bottom. It stirs in the cyclopean god an almighty need, that all powerful desire to accede, to saturate, to penetrate and to dominate, unable to see past what’s in front, nose sniffing like a rabbit’s, cowbell you fucking dickhead, your friend is dead and all that’s left is a vast gaping hole where it once was, a vacuum being filled with nights unrepentant in their fury and unending in their smiling torments, remembrances, petty turnovers, olives, orchards, walks, statues, hand washing, fields, movements, water, smells, lightbulbs flashing, reminding, telling that once in a while

Once in a while

Once in a while the moon stops turning, the suns stop spinning and all that’s left is a pile of nothing, revealing the endless, the torment, the pain of smiles and the torture of sighs, reminding, revolving, stopping the earth and moving the unmovable, creating something out of nothing -

The rabbit then jumps, runs away, flashes its tail in awareness of sacrifice, while the doubt is still there, but slowly assuaged and replaced by the thought that everything, as always, ends in nothing.

Ity,

That was beautiful so sad, so much angst and pathos. That is life and in part what makes it beautiful. =D>

You can write!!! But I know this.

Have you ever seen the movie or read the book "Watership Down"by Richard Adams? If not, rent the video or read the book - a book is always better by far - as it would seem that our own imaginations are better. Or do both, as the movie can also paint a picture for you. Read the book then watch the video.

I loved that, Ity.

Anybody think they match this mentally?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hypomania

So, you take this as maybe a diagnosis and in one sitting, Dr. Freud? [-X

I dont mean to categorize you like that.

Do you think fast, like a jack rabbit?

The rabbit category has the advantage over the hypomaniacs. They are entitled to more rights.

I didn’t actually think you were categorizing me at all.

…Only when I’ve had too much coffee. I prefer to do slow thinking pondering the mysteries of the universe. Unless my life is in danger and my amygdala has to work overtime. :laughing: :laughing: :laughing:

Do the jack rabbits think - or do they respond instinctually? :unamused:

you’d be surprised about the pace of your own thoughts. I had a doctor ask me if I had racing, rapid thought patterns and I said, no. Ironically, I slowly learned that, once compared, my thoughts were quicker than most people, I just was so used to my standard. I had no way to judge it.

Some people are born with the relentless energy of the mind. Others practice so often they build the muscles of their thought power. You’ll maybe notice that, if people seem tired after a long conversation with you, but you could keep going with ease.

And oh yeah, rabbits think. They think “I’m gonna hop a good one.” :smiley:

Hmm. Interesting.