>roadmap of my brain, path of my thoughts

>My face feels flushed. I am not sure what or where my thoughts are hanging out, or where they want to go next. It seems that the same thoughts are wading in all parts of my brain, from downtown to uptown, from the suburbs to the coast.

Thoughts have tended to wander the streets of the temporal downtown, constantly gauging their own perception of what they remember, and what they want to say. In my own reasoning, within my moments, I try to process what is right in front of me. The big city mirrors my temporal lobe, and helps me try to make sense of what I am hearing and saying. At its most basic, I always remember my love and life when I am downtown. Whether inspired or expired, the city is where my thoughts turn to memories, and my physical responses turn to words.

Sometimes and not so often, I travel uptown. I want a taste of the twinkle lights in the fashion high street of the west hills. Uptown is where the twinkle lights and cheer are draped along the tree’s, on the streets of the parietal lobe. I am encouraged to dance and play, and the wind in the hills stimulate my ability to perceive and to recognize the conception of my own thoughts. When I am uptown, I think of what I can do, where I can go, and why I dream of the twinkling and sparkling of the sleepless 23rd avenue.

I try to stay in the city, but then I notice, that no one at my age has stayed as long as I have in the city. They have reasoned with themselves, that they are people who need space. Who need to spread their arms and not run into another person, they want to plan land of their own. So the suburbs serve as a spacious place for my thoughts to think reasonably, minimize costs of living and plan a family life. To the most anterior, my consciousness and intentional movement is controlled and composed. Suburban life is the anterior of my brain, where my thoughts can appropriately and sensibly determine how I would like to plan my next step. How I would like to resolve the current moment, and manifest it to the future.

Tired and lost, my thoughts only hope to enjoy the sound of the waves and the mist of the rain. I let them travel to the oceans coast, where they can take a moment and focus on what they are seeing. The beauty in what is. The moment of visual perception, without assigned thoughts. What just is. The coast is a place where I can notice the colors of my environment, and where my place is within its superior demonstration proving the unimportance of a clock. The irrelevance of tick-tocks, when time is inherent in your existence.

But sometimes I am not sure what my thoughts want to do, after they have traveled the road map of my brain. They see all sides, they want to live in the relevance of each area they have traveled to. Not one makes more sense than the other. And that is when I pause for a moment, to take a deep breathe.

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