Enemy Mind

Had a dream with ______ in it the other night. Even in my dream she was with someone else and so it was a nightmare.

I awakened unhappily, as if I’d slept on a rock in Hell.

The mind is a worthless turd. It has zero control over the dream state, it can’t recall useful info on command and it panics in a crisis unless you’ve trained for thousands of hours for a particular situation, and even then…

The mind is a useless turd.

What happens when you’re just sitting there ‘minding’ your own beeswax? BAD memories out of nowhere. Past hurts made fresh. Future worries made real. You’d think your own mind would be on YOUR side, but it’s like the old attraction at Disneyland where you ride in tiny cars. You play at turning the steering wheel but the car is bolted to a fixed track.

A few salesfolk maintain the mind can be controlled, even reprogrammed, but it doesn’t last. Everything dies with the end of novelty and soon it’s the Disney cars again.

This physical body is halfway through the decades toward death; already I beg for the blankness of nothing.

It’s the only real prayer.

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