The ‘thing’.

Just a really… really random text. Soz mates.

I have this unusual ‘thing’. Now, I’m calling it a thing as I am uncertain what else it would be. After too much coffee and too little interaction with others, my mind begins to scramble. I become eggs, truly. I set about whole and intact, a yolk and its white.. but my shell of normality is cracked open and fried, to then be scrambled all over the pan in only minutes. Hundreds of voices begin pecking at each other inside of me, as though there is a busy conference titled ‘share your random opinions of all kind’ posted at the doorway of my brain, ever so welcome to lunatics, narcissists, actors and the negatives. Oh yes! Please do come in! 

It’s rather unusual as I begin to become an observer, or more, a listener, discerning what in fact is being spoken by my own mind. Ah this equivocal mutter… to catch a thought is like trying to keep your eyes on a singular bee within a gigantic, racing swarm. It compels me to walk toward my mirror and stare. After a nice, clear look at myself I giggle neurotically, feeling as though I am quickly growing into a psychopath. Then comes the dramatist, performing scenes of Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo and Juliet’, “Oh Romeo” I sigh, longingly, “Tis but thy name that is thy enemy.. thy art thyself.. though not a Montague… what’s Montague!?..” I go on, laughing at my reflection strangely throughout the act. This doesn’t happen every time these loud, scattered thoughts surge my mind, but you can understand where I am coming from (well, maybe not..).


I discover this same storm of emotion, or what can perfectly be described as ‘silliness’, preceding an incredibly painful and heart-rending experience, where my entire being seethes with depression. First I am hopelessly sad and inconsolable, only silence exists when tears do not fill the air. Total exhaustion hits soon after eighty buckets of these tears are shed and my body feels as if it has exuded all source of water and life. Here, I truly believe this is the cessation of all happiness in my life and the future looks dim and pointless from here on in (think I like to dramatise my sadness?). Then delusion! Numbness to feelings becomes a core aspect of my delusion stage. So I decide to look in the mirror, as I do after too much caffeine. I just sit there weirdly, purely, outdone. This is a sensation I can relate to being submerged by water, complete soundlessness. It is so calm, so outlandish, so curious. I’m just perched there, raw, animalistic, gazing loosely into my eyes, thinking, ‘wow, humans are so interesting.. why am I staring at my swollen, reddened face.. I look abnormal…’ Maybe then I’ll ponder on our existence. You know those conversations that emerge, but rarely, about the moon and the earth, and they whirl into an analysis of life, the universe, whereby you have to halt any talk of it at all as it becomes ludicrous and indecipherable, almost laughable. I probably end the mirror gazing in a mad hatters laugh about how weird my face looks crying.

-This text is somehow dedicated to Drew Ivey. –

Biscuits and Sparkles,



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