What the Funk.

It appears that I’m in some sort of a funk lately, feeling somewhat maimed emotionally and mentally, but the body wants to go the distance, and put its physique to the test. And I want to let it; to feel the old familiar rush and impetuous flow of energy, just wrecking havoc within me, and resulting into a craving, an addiction I can’t curb with rational thought and a sensible disposition.

I don’t know if it’s age or recent experiences, or the sentiment or preoccupation of having to be wise, but the last two — rational thoughts and a sensible disposition — are precisely what’s keeping me from granting myself that satisfaction and refusing my own endorsement on such absurd notions. I can’t justify thus I can’t do. And it unnerves me a little to discover how well I’ve trained myself to such a manner of conduct after all these years.

The way I am, stays. But the way I feel? Certainly not like myself. I’ve been having an escalating amount of terrible mood swings, just swaying erratically — one minute I’m ecstatic, the next I’m a tad sad, then the next I’m hot with fury. Before you know it, I want to shove things — and at times, people — just to hear the loud clangs and slams against hard surfaces. And I’m finding incredibly difficult to make any decision. Yes, I’m fickle, but never quite to this extent.

A friend on Twitter figured it could be an end-of-the-year transition. Based on this alone, it could be many things — an act of rebellion against change, a method of internal reflection, fear of the uncertainties, inability to let go … like I said, many things. But I sure hope she’s right — that this is just a momentary feeling that will gradually (or abruptly) phase out once I’ve settled into the next year. Which is just 2 days away.

Oh boy, how the year have flown.

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