Clicks and Webs | Teen Ink

Clicks and Webs

June 11, 2017
By Raku11 BRONZE, Minneapolis , Minnesota
Raku11 BRONZE, Minneapolis , Minnesota
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Click. That is the sound I imagine what my mind would produce when a new concept is absorbed and understood. The proverbial click signifies the entry of new information and power to use at my will. I can see the concepts, the words that rapidly come from the speech synthesizer on my computer are visible in my mind’s eye. As the words that discuss the concepts of macro economics are fed to me, my brain produces hundreds of other clicks, signifying the connections made. With every piece of information I devour, the more my mental universe expands, a universe inhabited with creations and ideas of my own, and endless available space for more.


However, it is not a paradise. It is my place, but no place I inhabit is one of absolute luxury, for I’m incapable of simplistic thought. My mind may be an anthology of knowledge, but it is also an encyclopedia of troubles. The massive web of intellectual thought has a twin, a web of bombardments of insecurity, anxiety, and over contemplations of the future, past, and present. Complexity is my enemy, for it is the reason for why I can’t eliminate the evil web, every attempt of the destruction of my tormentors results in its rebirth. My mind does not birth single strands, it births webs; my mind seeks for entanglement. So the 2 webs live on.


Some days, the web of power prevails. Other days, my evil entanglements dominate my reality, as the strands drain all power I may have. There is the destruction my mind  creates, a tornado of ashes violently hurdling over the barriers of tranquility, spilling over the edge and tumbling to the ground, the color of black seemingly as bright as stars to my watchful eyes that watch my own self destruction. There is the bittersweet  oater in the air as I  flash back to simpler times, back through the thing I used to  call the easy life. The paths I hurtled down  haunt me as if it was a grave, only without the love flowers. For the scattered bones of the innovations that previously existed lay there, cold. There is the feeling of longing, longing as the reflection stares back at me with flat eyes, with flat emotions and 1 dimensional experiences, a duplication of myself, but the better twin carrying the better characteristics, the characteristics of freedom.


But some days, this place, my place, isn’t utterly dismal. Other days, the clicks are rampant, as the web of negativity shrinks into a monster that appears to be  manageable. Some days, it shrinks so far, that I forget it’s there, as the jubilation and hyperactivity of my mind courses throughout my mental universe. But, it’s always there. It only shrinks, it never ceases to exist, for it is a part of my universe that I know the emotional contribution my dismal web has is significant to the dynamics of my world. Some days, I hate it. Other days, I love it. It is my mind, my universe, and I have to accept every part of it, the good and bad. It is a hub of creation and innovation while being a hub of abundant struggles, and it is the place where I belong and love the most.



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