Thoughts

Curiosity wound me one day, the absurdity of whether I could grasp my brain in the entirety of one single hand, would it even fit in its presumptuous velvet texture, or slip in its discharged residue. If I prod one side too hard or insert all my fingers inside what effect would that have on my being. I like to think that while I actively disengage all my senses with utmost consciousness it leaves an ache of profound emotion to the simple things, or maybe it numbs it all out, as the reality is a vegetative state. That thought is followed by the possibility of functioning without this squishy flesh ridden component. For with it, the current predicament is even if its pulsing inside my head, physically throbbing, and aging I am wholesomely in a vegetative state. Willingly, and so, I amuse myself in the thought, in my nonsense.

My mind, the inner mechanisms of me is dexterous yet unfathomable all the same time. It’s like a countryside, the kind with wilted straw and manure scented grass, small daisies blooming, however one could not be ignorant to the obvious decomposing. Pin dropped in the middle is a maze, bringing that recognizable feeling, a sweet tingle in your cricked knees and slight buzz in your fingertips pushing you, pressuring you to run into the maze. But that gut feeling envelops you and suddenly it looks too horrifying to walk through, your logic kicks in because why would you walk through a maze in the middle of…