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My formal position in the whole head versus heart debate

Having been a connected eyewitness to the devastating damage dementia can precipitate in a brain, stealthily wiping out every single bit of information previously deemed essential and therefore safely stored, has for sure predisposed my formal position in the whole head versus heart debate, the ongoing conversation with oneself on how to approach decisions, easy daily ones as well as the more difficult directional dilemmas requiring character or persistence, and where in hell are those mainstays hiding inside ones body when you need them?

My father’s vulnerability to cardiac arrhythmias however, with some twitchy episodes of rapid decline not exactly plain sailing to forget or ignore, does offer a decent counterbalance to this gathered knowledge by forewarning not to put an overload of trust in the durability of this ornate muscle, best to store memories and their relating emotions in duplicates, for a connection disturbance due to failures of one or the other seems inexorable, based on my family chronicles alone.

It’s a pretty preposterous gospel we’re spreading once we get older, generously advising the young to mainly follow their heart when it comes to choosing a career, whilst knowing very well in years prior all has been done to fill their heads with suitable cognizance that can never be unlearned and thus forms a better foundation on which to build their lives on, plus: following their head will probably put more money in their pockets, hence happiness.

Well then, preposterous I am, looking back, feeling ridiculously triumphant overlooking my own choices and what they brought me, the mistakes my infallible heart has made by not consequently involving logic, the passionate way my head can fiercely resist feelings irregularly, that weary, exhausting, eternal struggle so closely related to seeking pleasure and avoiding pain.

As usual my mind is completely blown by the sudden spectacular abundance of our heart shaped raspberries, I’m evidently incapable of storing the factual information that they will bear fruit this late in the year, yet this mysterious mental shortfall only adds to the joy of embellishing our daily dessert with them.


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