Fragments From Floyd

He has been the little man in your brain that you identify as your 'self'. Others have seen him as the 'tiny preformed human' inside the head of a sperm that will become the new person in the mother's womb. He has been many things, and the homunculus too is the distorted representation of the brain's terrain that is spent in sending signals to and receiving them from the body, and not all parts get equal billing as you can see. The 'sensory motor homunculus' is everyman, out of proportion, to one degree or another.

I think this is true. Aren't we all homunculi of this latter type? Do any of us have our lives in balance such that one part of each of us is not grotesquely out of balance and enormous, while other parts remain tiny, underdeveloped, withered, hidden? We are often not aware our own homunculus.

Too much of work, friends, making money; of fiction, gadgets, fitness, food, writing, reading, foozeball, weblogs, fishing... any one part of our lives that takes too much of our time while other worthy parts of us lie fallow... creates creatures less comely than we could be, unbalanced.

I have too much of some good things, too little of others within my grasp to have. I'm weary of the huge lips and monstrous hands of my homunculus. The plastic surgery needed to make me well proportioned: clear purpose, setting and persistence in well thought-out priorities and budgeting of time and energy, discipline, and unswerving determination. Life is short.