When I’m focused on things, such as writing, or exploring ideas, the rest of the world falls away in my mind and becomes a blur on the periphery.
The necessary things I must do continue, sort of like a heart beat to the whole mess, providing nutrients and removing waste from wherever my mind may be. This caused a lot of problems growing up with authority figures, but after a while they learned to accept it. Romantic relationships tend to have been ok because I would keep a little part somewhere where I could have mayhem to focus through. When visiting others, I don’t have this issue and this lends itself to my little rationalizing theory – which we’ll get to.

Others have tried to change this in me. I have, on occasion, made sincere efforts to change myself, but to do something as simple as cleaning an apartment requires landmarks, objectives, and not getting distracted by the cool stuff I forgot I have. It’s not ADHD, or OCD, I’m pretty sure. My theory is…

I wasn’t meant to have as much stuff as I might have at any given point, and I wasn’t meant to do as much stuff as society feels I have to at any given point. In essence, there’s only so much I can do at a point in time. I think that this is perfectly normal. What others may consider abnormal is what I choose to spend time on.

And what I’m stuck with is exactly doing what I have been doing for maybe too long. Decluttering my mind.