simonbaker

I'm fully sick of this mind. It turns and boils and folds, but never conjures a useful notion. It beligarantly refuses to create something not already whithin. I labour to think and to imagine while it simply checks out. A weak mind with not a thought of its own, that's all I have.
They say you can be trained to be creative. That's a creative notion. The training is likely creative as well. hmm.

My hand pushes past my tongue, not down my throat, but up...up into my mind. My reach seems to exeed neccesity as my teeth engulf my elbow. I can't see where to grab. I can't feel anything. If only I could see this void, I would know to give up. But my waves and and tries to snatch something from the emptiness.
Somehow.....SOMEHOW, my brain continues to fire the impulses for my heart to beat, to breathe, to blink. This chunk of meat electrifies my entire body to submit to its will. Beat NOW....breathe NOW....This relationship no longer feels symbiotic. I am under its control, and it won't give an inch of slack.
Trapped inside the cell of my own mind. Luckily my body can't maintain this forever. Forever...there's a thought.......what a nightmare. Soon I'll be free. Free of these shackles. Free to create.




<--- what the fuck is that?