The Curse of Reasons
Our lives are ruled by reasons - reasons offered and reasons received - reasons demanded and reasons rejected. Reasons throttle our freedom-loving imagination on a tight, choking leash.
With sunset after a hard day of reasons, I like to let my mind run free in the hot sanctuary of my tub, chasing the swirling slipstreams of my dreams.
Night fragrances of trumpet vines and Jasmine wash over the parched synapses of my imagination like a spring rain in the high desert - igniting an evanescent bloom of thoughts and emotions swirling and dancing to the infinite horizon. I plunge deep, into the serene silence, running among my shimmering thoughts, touching each one as I pass.
I emerge from below the surface, lucid dreams conjuring visions of trees - one vaguely reminiscent of something that might once have belonged to me.
In the midst of pondering what sort of tree I had spawned - or perhaps become? - the demanding chatter of a Mad Hatter: “How do you know you are a tree? How come your leaves look like toes? Explain it, Mark! How many leaves do you see?”
“All of them,” I answer through bubbles, slipping below the surface, back into the silent solitude, the world of reasons a dancing, dissolving blur. I am once again free to romp the wild frontiers of my imagination - free from the curse of reasons.