Watching Cloud Atlas reminds me of how much my mind can’t take too much thought-provoking information in one go.
It’s odd, seeing that when I was younger, I used to love absorbing all sorts of knowledge ranging from paranormal to the cosmos, the functionality of the brain to the ecology of the ocelot. I went in depth with some religious doctrine, historical event, philosophy derivation, building up a mind that is so often distracted because of the eyes that see too much.
I always say that distractions are what keep me focused.
But I don’t know anymore. I remember watching Lucy, and the science took me so far out that my mind felt boggled to the point it couldn’t function well for the day. All it wanted to do was to constantly remember scenes, constantly analyze scenes, constantly apply them to life scenarios of all manners until I felt exhausted, numb, weak to the vast amount of knowledge that has penetrated my mind. It’s become bad enough that even watching Ant-man got me stressed out, and I couldn’t last through a Wikipedia entry on the black hole without feeling like I have seen too much. My mind thinks of the good sides of things, and the bad sides of the same things, always trying to achieve a balance while at the same time determine the right.
No wonder I need peace so badly. Somewhere that I could be on my own, just few acquaintances, working on novels without the noise of people inflicting their conflicting opinions on me. I need open-mindedness, understanding, allowance for personal space, arms to embrace me when my human vessel could no longer contain the ways of the world.
I just want to write this novel.