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October 14, 2003

My Mess

"And I don't believe in God
So I can't be saved
All alone as I've learned to be
In this mess I have made..."

Something changed over in my brain recently. There was a noticeable shift in my own perception of me. Instead of just thinking thoughts that blur together in my head, I can actually hear myself thinking. It's like there's someone else in there. It's linear, logical. I could potentially be conversing with myself. I stop myself mostly because I feel like it's a slippery slope to total schizophrenia if I continue down that road too far.
Sometimes I notice my brain leaking out my ear. It's quite a bother to try and get it back in. All that hopping on one foot, hitting myself in the head. I occasionally wonder if it's really worth the effort. Sometimes I stop trying altogether. It's such a bother sometimes. Such a mess.

Life is messy. Brains are messy, too, but you only really notice that when they come out. Inside, you can pretend that they are tidy.

The new person in my head seems quite agreeable. Gets a little negative sometimes, though. I'm not sure if I am quite ready to share the space yet. Maybe we can work out some sort of timeshare. I'll be there for half the time, and then vacate and she can run the place for the rest of the time. Or maybe I'll just pile all my neurosis on her and scare her away. Maybe she'll take them along.

Or maybe I'll keep her. Maybe when I'm old an alone I can look back at the times when I was young and alone, and think on how I was always crazy enough to have people in my head. And laugh a truly crazy laugh. One that takes years and years of nutcaseness to really get right. And pet my cats, and talk to the other people who live in my head with me. There will surely be more by then.

By then I can hope I'll be too insane to even notice things like happiness or sadness. Maybe I won't notice anything outside me at all, being so preoccupied with the mental neighborhood I will have created. Three cheers for adult diapers, I suppose.

...What's that super kitsch saying that old ladies always have hanging on something ceramic in their kitchens: "God bless this mess" or something like that? Fucking ridiculous if you ask me.

I'll get one of those.

Posted by kati at October 14, 2003 01:43 PM


I know how you feel... except I have the opposite problem; the voice in my head used to speak in complete, proper sentences and seemed to be following some sort of logic, but now I just have a dull rushing sound between my ears, interspersed with frequent exclamations of imperatives and explatives... I don't think you'll be alone when you're old, but if you are, I'll come over and talk to you to give those voices some rest.

Posted by: Kristina at October 14, 2003 03:41 PM