I have a switch
The switch doesn’t make a sound.
From on to off and back again. Proximity is all that’s needed to tumble the switch and I am who you see.
Then when the world retreats again I switch back.
It’s more noticeable, to me at least, when I’m tired. The music choices change, different tracks are skipped.
If I’m tired I head to melancholy, long assumed to be my resting state, my natural place. I like it there, it’s familiar and comfortable. A soft blanket on a cold day. The soporific warmth of the summer sun carrying me away. I don’t see it as a bad place these days, I’ve made my peace with the quiet noise in my head.
When well rested I become more of the person most people think they know, I wear the mask of me far easier. The persona doesn’t tire me as much, resistance drops and the music kicks up in tempo and volume. I have all the spoons I need.
Hmmmm, I wonder if I could measure my mood by BPM? Higher, faster, SCREAM FOR MORE!
By the same logic I know I can sometimes hack my mood. A building tempo, thumping bass, and I can feel my outgoing, laughing and joking recklessness pulse into my veins with every beat, pulling my heart along in time to a happier place.
I like it here too, thoughts are lighter. Things are better, easier, not as easily weighed down by the what ifs.
Such moods are quick, a light breeze changes my course and with it a new mood is revealed. Floating on a current of happiness, with love in my sails, I never veer too far from this route these days, but there are always storms ahead, whirlpools and crashing waves that try and tip me over.
I turn the music up and the sea calms once more.
Every night I sleep on clear waters, the gentle sway soothes me.
Every morning I wake and wonder which me I’ll be today.
Not that you’d know.
The proximity sensors kick in, the switch flips. It doesn’t make a sound. You never know.
I am always the me you know.