4/29/2015
I am alone, in the
midnight hour. Silence embraces me except for the lonely whistle of the train
as it lumbers slowly by on its way into darkness.
My mind is full of
racing thoughts. Most of them incoherent since they come and go so quickly.
Just when I begin to grasp one thought, a new thought rushes in and slams into
the other thought, ramming it out of the forefront of my brain and taking its
place. Shortly, the same thing will happen to it.
I can't focus and it
is infuriating! I try repeating the thoughts again and again, to keep the next
thought at bay, but to no avail. It bursts in like a solider in full riot gear,
screaming for attention, barking out commands. The thoughts are bullies. They
bully each other. They bully me. They batter my brain. They are beating me to
death. I want it to stop but am powerless to control them. I am at the mercy of
my mind.
I am trapped.
Chained to the cold, stone wall. The solid steel cuffs bite into my wrists and
ankles as they pull my extremities into four different directions. The archer
aims his arrow at my head. He pulls it back. He releases it. It crashes into my
mind like a wrecking ball. I struggle to take hold of it. To get what it has
injected into my head. Just as the mist is starting to clear and I can begin to
understand the thought, I am hit with
another one that splinters the first one. The process is repeated over and over
again. I am so exhausted. I hang there and just let the archer use my mind as
target practice. I don't even bother trying to grasp the thoughts he is
shooting into my head any more. There's no sense in trying. It bothers me
though. It bothers me a lot. Is my OCD showing?
I need a mind
recorder. Hook it into my brain so it can catch and record every thought so
that I can sort it all out during the day to make sense. Maybe there is
something useful in all these thoughts. I don't want to lose them. I wish they
made something like that. It might capture the rest of the novels that I have
been trying to write for years now. Maybe it would trap a new novel. Maybe it
would unleash ALL of my creativity. Maybe... Maybe. If only...
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