Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m talking or not. The vocalisations in my skull can be just as vivid if not more so than their acoustic consequences. It’s led to countless skewed comedies of error, a petty handful of fist fights, and a brace of sore hearts. I understand the why of each of them perfectly well, the circumstantial insanity, but I’d like to get a handle on how come my brain so often doesn’t know when I’m doing what. The problem is I’m not really sure who to ask or if they’d even hear me if I did.
Nic
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.
08/07/2017 at 03:40
Sometimes I drift back and am puzzled by a grimace on my face, the leftover of thought or speaking out loud.. not sure. 🙂
I associate.
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