Saturday, 7 March 2015

The Rain In Brain

Whether you feel like your dying or you're actually dying, it’s always the same strategy. 

Hold on. 
Hang tight. 

Everyone around you claims to have some sort of idea how you feel because they keep saying: 

"I understand how you feel"

And the minute that comes out of their mouth your inner voice snort laughs and says: 

" have no clue how I feel"

 And If they were to respond with the opposite:  

"I can't even imagine what you're feeling"

You'd be all:
"Nobody gets me."

It’s a lose lose situation for anyone around you. If only there were some way to warn the people you come across, that at the current moment... you are a little fuck-ey. Like some sort of built in answering machine.

Random Person: “Hey excuse me, do you have the time?”

Built In Answering Machine: “E's not in at the moment. Kindly please leave a message and she will get back to you when her head stops spinning. Have a nice day.” *beep*

So the things you see aren’t what they are. 
They are what you see... but upside down. 
Your eyesight becomes a little warped. 

Maybe it’s because you're obsessing with the sound of the screws loosening in your head. Everyones' voices begin to sound like nails scraping a chalkboard. Everything becomes the enemy and somehow amidst the chaos you found time to take a poll of every single person in the entire world and came to the realization that nobody understands and you are all alone.

As soon as it becomes public knowledge that your world is collapsing, the advice starts rolling in right on schedule. How many different ways can someone say:

"I have no fucking clue what to say."

...without actually saying so? Let’s see shall we?

“Stay strong.” 

“Keep yo head up son.” 

“This will run it’s course.” 

“One day you’ll look back and laugh.”

“It could always be worse.”

“What goes up must come down.” 

“At least you have your health.”

“(Insert sad face emoticon)” 

“Everything happens for a reason.” 

“All in good time.”

“Have another shot.” 

“Have as much sex as possible.”

“Have patience.” 

“Have faith.” 

I like the last one. 
Times of turmoil are always supposed to be a good time to “have faith,” or at least bring you closer to it. But sometimes the closer you get to God and his mysterious after life, the further away from him you become. (Sometimes) And if you’ve moved your beliefs down the bench, imagine where your life is sitting.

Being from Venus, it should come as no surprise that I tend to over analyze. I’m sure the men of Mars do it too, but I see it mainly in those with vaginas....I mean those from Venus. 

Majority of the time it's not ok for my troubles to leave my brain until I have beaten them to a bloody pulp with every fibre of my thinking abilities and even after that, invite them back once in a blue moon to play catch up. I personally believe I’m a healthy over analyzer. (Nowadays) 

What’s healthy vs. non-healthy, you ask?



Every time I break things down in my head, I always end up at fear being the main reason I’m so vexed. The numbness of fear is like no other sensation. It’s the only emotion that stiffens me physically and/or mentally, I can’t move and I feel nothing. Everything stops when I'm scared. I'm focusing on one thing and one thing only, the thing I'm scared of. The best choice of action is to think...but thinking can be next to impossible, when your afraid. 

My friend and I went up north one time. We felt like going for a walk even though it was night and pitch black outside. We were walking down this road and all of a sudden this huge black furry dog wolf thing darts toward us at top speed. The freak'n thing came out of nowhere! We were petrified. The fucker was snarling at us and showing its teeth! The beasts back was up and he looked extremely confident that he could kill us both at the exact same time. Not a single thing was going through my mind except: 

“uhhh this wolf’s going to eat us.” 

That’s what I was focussed on. 
So focused, that when someones' whistle in the distance broke the “beasts” gaze on us, I didn’t even realize that it was just a really big dog. As the owner was calling it’s name, I was still thinking: 

“this thing is going to eat me, then it’s going to eat my friend like it’s no big deal, then run back to the idiot that thinks this is a cool dog to have off leash. This is how I die.” 

Needless to say, as soon as the dog heard its name it ran off and left two very relieved non-eaten shook up females, who will remember a flashlight next time...and perhaps a shotgun. 

When you’re staring Fear in the face, and he’s looking right back at you, the turntable in your head is scratching your record and all you keep hearing is: 

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.” 

Maybe it’s cause of the plane your about to jump out of. Maybe it’s the gangster looking bears that showed up at your campsite ready to fuck shit up Boyz N the Wood styles. Or maybe it’s the condom you went to remove only to find out that it removed itself at some point while you were doing your best friends younger sister...sans condom. 

I always used to spend a lot of time focusing on why I was scared, instead of thinking of ways to
defeat why I was scared. If you put me in that wolf/dog situation again these days, I promise you, I’ll be thinking: 

“how am I going to stop wolf/dog from eating us” 

as opposed to 

“wolf/dog is going to eat us.” 

Stupid fucking wolf/dog. 
I have two words for you wolf/dog...not cool!

Your head is not just a super awesome zone to put your hair or your beautiful face. There’s stuff inside there. Stuff that came stock. I’m the one who souped-up my own head with all those unnecessary upgrades. I don’t need a brain that flys. I need a brain that gets me from point A to point B safely. Elaborate thought patterns would be the death of me if I didn’t over analyze. I’d never figure out the root of my thoughts. 

Have you ever caught yourself thinking bizarre things and...when you think about it, you're like: 

“ Wait a minute. How in the hell did I get here?” 


I purchased a pair of brown boots. 

My friend also purchased a pair of
brown boots. 

The two pairs are very similar in style and colour. 

My friend was extremely hesitant on the two of us sporting them at the same time. 

I didn’t understand. 
Friend knew how I felt. Yet when Friend and I had plans and Friend wanted to wear her boots, I’d receive a text or phone call asking if I was wearing mine. 

I wanted to wear my boots. 
Friend wanted to wear her boots...what’s the issue? 

Finally a discussion was had. 
It turned out that Friend was scared people would think we matched intentionally or we were “the matching boot girls.” 

Friend is funny. 

Obviously I thought this was preposterous poo poo, but I love Friend and I wanted to understand where she was coming from. I was always the girl who put on whatever the fuck she wanted and left her house. 

Who cares? 
No really, who cares? 

Show me the person who actually cares what I wear or what I put on. I’m going to introduce myself to them and in the same breath, make my point. If I have to tell you my name then that means you don’t know me and I don’t know you, so why are you so concerned with what I’m doing/wearing etc.? 

Eventually, Friend began to notice that brown boots were “in fashion”, and many a girl had herself a pair of brown boots. 

Imagine if someone actually came up to us and yelled: 

“OMG! Who do these girls think they are? The matching boot girls?” 

then all the sidewalk patrons would turn and laugh while chanting 

“Matching boot girls! Matching boot girls!” 

(I’m laughing as I type that.) 
Preposterous poo poo those elaborate thought patterns be.


My Brain came stock with   and  

Anything else was my doing. 
"My Doing" caused me to become unwilling to be a part of this world. 

☹ side was the side I was playing and paying for everyday. I rid myself of everyone and everything. Closed up shop mentally, and called it a day. 

Picture yourself sitting crossed legged on the cold floor of an empty cellar. You can’t see anything because your only light source is the inevitable melting candle in your hand that keeps going out, due to an annoying drip of funky water leaking from the ceiling above. 

Oh and your almost out of matches. 

That’s what life on the 
 Side of Stock E Brain was like. The only reason I was living there was because I had jam packed  Side with so much unnecessary garbage that it began to spill over to ☺ Side, which left little to no space for ☺.

My brain as a whole had become the storm God warned Noah about. Apocalyptic. Constant rain. The rain in brain stays mainly in the brain... until it floods. Once I ran out of room on my inside, it began to leak, then spill, then flood on my outside. I had become petrified of both in and out. Like I said before, everything stops when I'm scared. And when you're scared of you're life, the stop is a little more abrupt. 

I met an adrenaline junky who jumps out of planes and swims with sharks. 
He wasn’t scared. 

I met someone who beat cancer. 
They fear nothing now. 

I know a girl who almost got swallowed by the ocean and dislocated her shoulder swimming the fuck out of there. 
She wasn’t scared.

I saw this guy tattooing his own knee in a window of a tattoo shop. 
He didn’t look scared.

I know someone who was treated like absolute garbage as a child and grew up to raise the bar for every parent in this world. 
Fearless now.

I know a women who got her and her two kids away from a horrible, violent situation. 
She wasn’t scared. 

She couldn’t be. 
We can’t be. 
I can’t be. 

Everything I fear is either going to happen or not. It’s inevitable. Immobilizing yourself only gives fear more time and room to circle you and sniff you out. 

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.” isn’t going to shoe fear away. You think fear can’t smell fear? (Ask stupid wolf/dog. He knew he was just a Labrador but he fucked with us anyway cause he knew we were scared shitless.) 

Think fast if you have to.
Or take years to think about it.

It will flood you otherwise. 

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