All day, everyday, there is a rational voice -like the daily “time to take a shower” voice- but also an irrational one.

It says random and profound things. It sometimes repeats statements that make no sense, like a would-be middle school inside joke with no punchline that never existed. Sometimes they are quotes from movies, books, etc, quoted in the most obscure moments of my day. Pouring orange juice after school, I am repeatedly told to “Heed the skies.”

I sometimes wish, that as a clockmaster is able to spill the contents and innerworkings of a watch, that so too could I unpack the contents of my brain, and lay them out to look. Not the sulci and pons -the physiological anatomy- but the nerves, the thoughts, the feeling that I am convinced travel through some type of vein, seen or unseen. 

Meyer’s book The Host brings up the fascinating concept of a host that attaches to the spinal cord and takes over its victims brains, from within them it controls their thoughts until the victim finally surrenders consciousness. Maybe I’m just a victim that is resisting.