after a prolonged and shameful silence

how is it that half our brains can be completely clairvoyant, know exactly what's going on, why we're doing these things, what they will do to us, and that should we stop it, we'd be much happier, and the other half is drowning in disorder? and these two brains cannot merge, they cannot speak to one another. the rational side has no power over the disordered. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. You have no power over me.

i don't know what to do about this. we can keep on trying to win and we may never get there. this disorder is also more than the sum of its parts. we need an antidote that is more than the sum of the antidotes for the constituent poisons. i don't know what that key ingredient is. clearly no one does. the realm of the mind is far murkier and dark and dank than that of the physical body, which is why we push our ailments to the surface, to the physical. we complain of backaches and headaches and ulcers and sore throats and we feign sickness and injury and we cut and hurt to explain whatever it is, lurking there in the deep. we want explanations and there are none, though we feel as though they are there, formless and vague, if we could just catch hold. if. if we could just point to it and say, there, that's what's wrong.

but there is nothing, and we continue on, destroying the bodies we are trying so hard to make perfect, negating ourselves in an attempt to find ourselves, pushing people away when all we want is to be close to them, becoming horribly visible when all we desire is invisibility. this is an antithetical disorder and we will never get what we want precisely because we are disordered, though the disorder promises it. we are walking paradoxes. we are the walking dead with the illusion of starlight in our eyes.