Unique
It's really unique in the understanding that nothing I say is even the tip of the iceberg in my mind. It is as thought I speak in riddles and different tongues just to relay some sort of message across tiny bits of information.
The clarity of whatever needs to be hit hard is only a moment of words. Not even a full conversation. Not that I don't want to give you what is necessary to comprehend, it is more of the factor that I can't give you the understandable words.
I have no way of uncovering what is rolling a thousand or million scenes at once, inside my head. At times I really would love to see everything in slow motion or even rewind like in Weird Science.
So many times I just end up remaining quiet. Not that I am bored or shy, but that of too much information to transform into words.
Ah and even in my turbulent migraine times the images are just in holograms. Many would say auras before the lights knock out for a bit of time. Yet mine tend to spin and be in this iridescent circle of moving holograms. And they are not moving slowly. Everything gets me to the point of spinning as though I am in vertigo.
Less though, I am not.
So most of me thinking and talking seems to be quite out there in my discussions. Especially the times I pick up on sentences from a conversation held a few days ago. A delayed effect of some sort. Not that I didn't get and finish the conversation then, I just found more information to relate within the paragraphs.
Although now they have no meaning. Yet inside me they hold dear or passionately within. Strong convictions and arguments, perhaps, ready to unveil.
Yet now there is so much thought of just what my mind uncovers and then I have made just the insignificance of anything I say.
Though I am listening. Way beyond compare. Even when I seem to fade in and out I am still listening.
Perhaps that is what I need to say. What is in my mind is significant to me but for those who are around, staring at my quiet demeanor, I am listening.
Those are the words I should speak.
Perhaps one day I will explode and all my thoughts will be scattered photographs across time. Alas for now I have tucked them away so sleep will tear my migraine from my head.
And with that I lean in to say, good night friends.
The clarity of whatever needs to be hit hard is only a moment of words. Not even a full conversation. Not that I don't want to give you what is necessary to comprehend, it is more of the factor that I can't give you the understandable words.
I have no way of uncovering what is rolling a thousand or million scenes at once, inside my head. At times I really would love to see everything in slow motion or even rewind like in Weird Science.
So many times I just end up remaining quiet. Not that I am bored or shy, but that of too much information to transform into words.
Ah and even in my turbulent migraine times the images are just in holograms. Many would say auras before the lights knock out for a bit of time. Yet mine tend to spin and be in this iridescent circle of moving holograms. And they are not moving slowly. Everything gets me to the point of spinning as though I am in vertigo.
Less though, I am not.
So most of me thinking and talking seems to be quite out there in my discussions. Especially the times I pick up on sentences from a conversation held a few days ago. A delayed effect of some sort. Not that I didn't get and finish the conversation then, I just found more information to relate within the paragraphs.
Although now they have no meaning. Yet inside me they hold dear or passionately within. Strong convictions and arguments, perhaps, ready to unveil.
Yet now there is so much thought of just what my mind uncovers and then I have made just the insignificance of anything I say.
Though I am listening. Way beyond compare. Even when I seem to fade in and out I am still listening.
Perhaps that is what I need to say. What is in my mind is significant to me but for those who are around, staring at my quiet demeanor, I am listening.
Those are the words I should speak.
Perhaps one day I will explode and all my thoughts will be scattered photographs across time. Alas for now I have tucked them away so sleep will tear my migraine from my head.
And with that I lean in to say, good night friends.
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