Sunday, June 3, 2018

Hologram Me

     I feel like there are at least ten people living inside of me... Don't! don't label right away, wait. Reach for that spot where, when tickled, boredom turns into curiosity. It feels like ice cream to me, that process, pink in flavour. What a distraction.
     In simple images, when a situation is encountered it becomes a whole little world of its own - it's completely self-functioning and whole, yet nothing without a thinker who thinks it. Of course, one can argue that, but is there anything that can't be argued?
     So. I can't show you the whole situational world in just an interaction. I can't. It would take so long, that ice cream would melt. Instead, I have to pick and choose words and gestures and facial expressions to kinda-sorta relate the hell or ecstasy or beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep of that world. And the rest is simply lost. You see, we did degrade, as humans, with the use of the alphabet. Because we lost the art of communication. I know, that might not make sense on paper. For some.
     But my brain is sluggish. There's so much information out here, my anfractuosities and crinkles are getting over-worked. Because of that it takes some tick-tocking to express just the right thing in just the right manner. I've never taught myself that! I'm struggling. And finally it comes out, but bitchy and just plain wrong. People are confused. Half the stuff remains unspoken. Can I write you an e-mail instead? I swear, I'll follow the rules of writing in which an idea quietly and smoothly makes its way to you and doesn't jump or tear, fade or bite its own tail. Head. I'm saying "head" - I just flipped a coin, because I fidget while I talk.
     I just lied up there, in a sentence above. But it's almost unnoticed, because it's just words. There's no image that I can share mind-to-mind. If there were, you would catch that lie. I file and trim my nails, I don't fidget. I used to bite them, but now I use that time wisely.
     Now I can say it: if I were to explain it all - the whole situation at hand - one would think (or dare say) that I could think there are at least ten people living inside of me, or ten emotions, each with its own desired outcome. So don't pose "Can you just tell me what you want" on me. Or some other such thing.  Because I wish I could just hologram you, in all the senses.

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