Meet My Shadow
My shadow tenuously acknowledges that balance is the keystone to existence.
My shadow and my sunny side reside in realms of equal infinite size within our brain equally convinced of their omniscience. We work together to manage to make good works, bad moves, stupid remarks and intelligent decisions all which enable us to continue existence in the body as a whole.
Some time ago my sunny side became infatuated over brain mapping, the fine art of making Venn diagrams, graphs, charts all to connect dots between the like and the unlike. This piqued the attention of my shadow who awaits every opportunity for potential vulnerability no matter how slight. My sunny side, to whom my shadow refers to as "the hippie," sees only the wonders of being, and basks in the warm fuzzy light only logic and order may bring.
The Perfect Patsy
My shadow hold utter contempt for my sunny side whom I suspect may be incapable of conceptualizing the existence of my shadow, which irritates my shadow to no end because it is like talking to a brick wall. Fortunately neither my shadow or my sunny side have corporal strength with which to effect any physical aspect of our body. To measure the time span of interaction between sunny and shadow in the virtual realm one must visualize the split second it takes to make the decision to duck or dodge for it is within this fleeting moment we meet, discuss, compare, reach accords (albeit begrudgingly) and bail back to the safety of our respective comfort zones.
Whereas my sunny side exists to harvest, analyze, organize, catalog facts and data about topics of specific interest, events which interest my shadow entail any and all idle thought which happens to capture my shadow's attention at any given moment. We are collectively an analyst by nature. As a child we enjoyed the fine art of dismantling perfectly good anythings to break down into manageable pieces for reassembling. This activity satisfied both my shadow and my sunny sides enough for us to achieve the tenuous balance an organism needs to survive. The conclusion in all probability must be our father who forced us to solve dot games and create puzzles and our own games instead of buying the see's and say's of our desires and our mother who made us do everything else and don't give any sass.
Nature did not make us an analyst. Nature doesn't love, hate or care about anything. Nature does not care whether we are analysts, saints or odiferous gas in pig farts. Nature just is. My shadow expresses wicked bewilderment for as much as humanity moans and groans about lives in shambles and dysfunction and the heartbreak of psoriasis and dry eye disease, so few care enough to examine, analyze or organize data past the point of no return when eyes glaze and roll to the back of heads. Humans need an App for that too apparently. The problem with chunking things into neat, tidy boxes (apps) however, arises when logic and order meets with the chaos of an undisciplined mind.
The Quality of Contrary
My Shadow possesses the quality of contrary - :
Contrariness by its very nature breeds chaos. Chaos is necessary to maintain balance of the core.
My shadow exists to create chaos in the orderly and logical realm of my sunny side to create the void which allows my shadow to wander aimlessly through the shadows. Sometimes the breech lasts only a few seconds, like a daydream or a stare, but when my shadow scores a catastrophic hit which can cause the delicate, orderly paradigm within our sunny side to collapse into a cascading fatal event. These are the moments we live for, my shadow assures.