Am I going insane? Some of these days I think I am. Remove "think" from that sentence because that's not something I'm capable of doing anymore. Therefore, I am.
Really, anyone, please. Give me something. Anything. A pill, maybe. A baseball bat. A punch (in the fist sense, not drink). Or very very very strong alcohol. I need to be knocked out for a while. So I can stop this brain activity which is the opposite of thinking. Or excessive thinking. Ineffective and useless thinking. Thinking that's coming out of my nose.
And it's like my head has become a giant version of my pendulum. It swings counter-clockwise for a yes, back and forth for a no, clockwise for a maybe, and stops for a I-don't-know. Except there is no metal string attached to my head; it's just doing that in a magnetic-field-which-I-don't-know-much-about-as-almost-failed-Science-10 sort of way.
Then when I get dizzy, because after all I'm not made of crystal and not in the shape of a cone, liquids come out my eyes and mouth. This is comforting because it stops the brain activity now known as the mother-of-all-too-much-thinking. Finally, my eyes close, and I rest. Cheers, hugs, and applause. Curtains.
Until I start dreaming. Brain on auto-pilot. More thinking in my sleep. *F-beep*
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