no thoughts

I have nothing to think.

This is not the same as nothing to say.

My brain is tired, but my mouth is not, it just rambles along, making sounds, reacting to the things my ears hear.  There really isn’t any need for the impulse from the ear to pass through the brain on the way to the mouth.  It takes a shortcut. I become a mockingbird, repeating your ideas back to you.  Why not? It makes you happy.

I honestly have no thoughts.  Just feelings.  And feelings without words to describe them are meaningless.  Might as well not exist at all.

I have a mirror next to my desk.  I use it while I am writing to help capture my feelings.  Without it I would not be able to interpret feelings into words.  My face is an open book you tell me.  And yes, I see what you mean.  I stare at the reflection there and I see someone struggling with reality.

I have just read a very good book, one which has shifted something in my brain, the way only a really good book can.  I read a short story on the very same day that I finished the good book, and it increased the shift.  I love this feeling, although it is kind of sad, and very hard to put into words.

Both stories twisted what is ‘real’ into something different.  But neither story took the shape of traditional ‘fantasy’ writing.

They were beautiful like a fairytale without the tacked on moral platitudes.

I want to write that way.  I want to write something so seamless. To move a reader from what is now to what is possible (or not so possible) without discernible effort or deliberate manipulation.

So I float on a bed of nothingness while my brain takes a break, retreating from the mundane, entering the wonderous.

Nothing. No thoughts.

I Want To Know

brains!
brains! (Photo credit: cloois)

I want to know why salt makes me feel smarter.

I want to know if there are any unbiased (not financed by someone with an agenda) studies of brain activity during video gaming, and if anyone really understands the results of those studies.

I want to know what happens in my brain when I go from utter confusion to sudden understanding.  In my imagination I see the tendrils of neurons or synapses or whatever, reaching, straining, trying to find something, and then… an electrical spark when they connect, forming a complete idea.

I want to know why I can’t concentrate in a silent room.

I want to know why I switch compound words.  (In my head belldoor sounds perfectly reasonable – it takes concentration to say it aloud as doorbell.)

I want to know why being the center of attention makes me feel good, but being in the center of a crowd makes me panic.

I want to know how the emotional and logical sides of my brain communicate with each other and why they can hold such opposing thoughts at the same time.  (I only like songs with good lyrics because I don’t care about music / I am moved to tears by a beautiful solo guitar piece / I hate reading poetry.  Ok – that was three opposing thoughts.)

If I had unlimited money – I wouldn’t buy a new car or a big house or lots of clothes, I would buy knowledge.  I would pay experts in neuroscience to figure out the way my brain learns, and to then adapt all the information in the world to that format so that I could absorb it as easily as possible.

Then I would package all of that information, in that easy-to-learn format, and give it away free on the internet so that people like me who Want to Know, but who suck at school, can learn, Everything.