Welcome to the rantings of one very tired me. My apologies ahead of time for anything that seems off kilter. You can blame my brain, it seems part of it has gone on protest. You see I've had very little rest, and I don't mean the sleep kind. Though there's rarely much of that either. I've been led down a very strange road as of late. Twisted with life's daily stress and loads of pain. Yet mingled within that pain and stress are bits of clarity. Why my brain wants to tease me with those bits I'll never know. It's actually quite vicious. For instance, I adore fractals, so one day I opened the program up, picked my formula, went for the colouring and BOOM! Umm.. what do any of these ucl's do? No idea, though I've known most for three years. Better yet try this one. Today putting away groceries I can move, turn, grab peanut butter, put it away. Move, turn, grab eggs put them into the refrigerator. Move, turn, grab bread, grab bread...umm grab. Hmmm, let's try that again with the right hand shall we. Now lift, grab.. nope. Not a thing, it's now the remnants of some newly mutated vegetable. OK, so this truly should be nothing new to me. It's been close to ten years of this, amongst a myriad of others things, off and on again. Only recently it's progressing and those moments of clarity seeming to be all the more taunting in their nature. I've tried hanging onto what I used to be somewhat good at such as art, music and writing. Though those talents seem to be a dying cause they are at least a distraction. I do anything I can to keep them alive and thriving. On the the other hand, finding a manageable way to express them can be interesting. Creating art was difficult and cumbersome until I was introduced to fractals. To this day I deeply thank the two ladies who brought me into this world of fractals. They really were life savers in the truest sense. Fractals have even managed to work my brain cells much to my doctors' enjoyment. My dearest comforting friend, the art of writing, will still creep in and out of my head. Not so clearly now, but until a petition or court order is issued, somewhere it will continue to appear. Even if it's in an old spiral notepad buried deep under my bed again. Music, ahh well... don't tell anyone, but my only remaining audience is and for here after will be my vacuum cleaner. I'm afraid those days are long gone. My memory is on strike far too often to remember lyrics to a song. Often I wonder though, if one's mind going on it's occasional sabbaticals can keep you from creating. Once that need is deep in your soul your always going to find a way to express it, I hope. As the days creep by now, and as I steadily do what ever is decided by the fates, I can only try to continue to create something I enjoy. Whether I understand it or not is no longer up to me. Nevertheless, I'll still hang tight to those bits of clarity.