Idiocracies of a weavering mind....

When your IQ goes down 18 points in a matter of two years its a matter of worrying and worrying and worrying and more worrying...

You can't really expect the situations to go perfectly fine...Yet the mind and the heart always long for perfection. Your rational keeps reminding you to be more practical!...and the mind keeps pulling you away.

Coming back to IQ...would it really matter that your IQ has gone down or was already down in your daily life? is it the most essential part of you for survival? I think not... because survival only needs a basic instinct which does not rely on intelligence but on reflexes.

I believe IQ should be defined more closer to how you relate to Life and Nature and not on GK based on human history and its development. The more you are aware of your life on earth as a whole and the more understanding you have of the species surviving with you on earth the more capable you are of getting out of the complexities of life.

Two years went by and my mathematical abilities have reduced and my personality report says that I'm not a social animal(That just shows in the huge number of "I"s in the blog). But this IQ test that I took did not determine whether my radical thoughts have gone down to more impractical, illogical and insensible ones. The thought processes have not changed but emotionality has highly increased. They say that if a person is highly sentimental and emotionally sensitive his decisions become impractical and irrational rather he is more indecisive on any matter.

Broken...yet...

The cracks have started to show...
She cannot bare the violence anymore...not even the noise that comes with it...
She's completely cracked up...Jagged edges have started to show up...the frustration, uncertainty, her own violent reaction to that voice ringing in her head...that voice testing her patience, testing her strength to hold her own. The voice that belonged to her own mother...It pursued her in utter disappointment that she had not grown insane with its constant ringing, and banging in her head. The one woman she respected utmost, loved and cared for, the one woman in her life for whom she had kept herself alive...was the one who wanted her to be utterly helpless, a lifeless robot, an insane mound of clay to be moulded by the woman the way she wanted.

She thought of rebirth...going back to those days when everything and anything was looked at with awe and wonder...the days of learning and listening and observing.