my brain tricked me into thinking it was broken, but it’s been squandering all its time lounging in its comfy chair eating cheese doodles. whenever i’ve picked up one of the many dusty books i’ve been meaning to read, my brain has been whining “i’m so ti-i-i-i-i-ired” until i return the book to its dustless rectangle on the bookshelf.
so yesterday, in an appeal to its bored-to-tears 80-90% of unused space, i told my brain that i miss the philosophical revelations we used to share. that i would really appreciate if it could take a break from the self-indulgent thoughts of depression to work out some ideas: ideas that might leave me feeling exhilarated and alive. ideas that might be worth staying up late for, with spark-potential to get into a stimulating discussion now and then.
but with only a smirk, my brain dismissed my request. “puleeez. that’s what college was for.” then it asked me if i’d seen the remote control.
so i started raising my inner voice. “listen up, brain. i’ve had it up to my ears with just living day to day, hurdle to hurdle—barely scratching the surface of life, wasting time.”
but in an obvious scheme to manipulate and squelch a potential rebellion, it started feeding my intellectual ego. “hey, you’re open-minded,” it gushed, “you can see beyond the need for such things as ‘stimulating arguments’ because you understand there’s really no point in the big picture, right? and you really don’t need to work out strong, annoyingly stubborn opinions about life, god, politics, social structure, etc. just to prove you’re smart, do you?”
“ok, i’m open-minded enough to see your point,” i responded, apprehensively.
“besides,” it continued, “you don’t like arguing or spouting out your unsolicited opinions left and right. you’re far too naturally agreeable.”
“ok, ok, i get it.” i said impatiently. “i’m open-minded, i’m agreeable. but you’re narrowing in one detail, as usual. what about making things more interesting for me? what about my writing? i used to have so much more to say. would it really put you out to humor me with a few ideas that i can think about and build upon?”
“aw, do you really need that to feel interesting?” it coaxed. “besides, your life is much simpler this way,” it soothed, “and you’re much too tired not to keep things nice and simple, aren’t you.”
“oh shut up, brain.” i’d had enough. “what it all boils down to is that you’re one lazy bastard. too lazy to work out ideas. to lazy to inspire or motivate or produce serotonin. all you want is your comfort. take, take, take! and if i could kick you out on your ass, if you had an ass at all, i would. but unfortunately, i can’t live without you. damn this codependent relationship!”
my brain raised one eyebrow as if to say, “finished?” then it gently asked if i wouldn’t like a little nap. a warm, comfortable, no-pressure nap, huddled under my warm, comfortable blankets…
stupid brain. all smug and snug in its padded skull.