Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Why the Modigliani Face?

I keep trying to turn the corners of my mouth up, but today it is not working. No, no, no, not at all. Even my stupid art joke of a title doesn't do anything for me and I LOVE bad puns, especially if they have a snobbish reference in them.
It is as though the muscle relaxer I took over 24 hours ago (whoa, the muscle spasms lately) is still lingering in my face. But not so much my brain, because although it may be feeling rather lackluster in mood it seems to be spitting out all sorts of random shit at normal speeds. I can feel that the grey matter is maintaining its weight atop my shoulders, but damned if I can figure out what the hell it is scheming up there.
It amazes me that something so integral to my entire concept of self can be such a fucking mystery at times. When my body does weird-ass shit and my mood plummets I get this distorted way of looking at things. It is as though I am looking at everything I do, people I interact with from above, or away from myself. Watching me, as though in a movie, with one goofy perspective.

Another strange side-effect of a crummy disposition and the sorta-sickies that are plaguing me (get it? Plaguing-->plague-->sick. This play on words has never been done before, I am sure of it.) is the sudden sensitivity to the most random of stimuli. The smell of popcorn in the office (co-workers, seriously, three bags in one hour!?) makes me want to puke in someone's desk drawer next to their post-it notes and paperclips. My own internal monologue seems really EMPHATIC suddenly, but I can't make myself not hear it as LOUD NOISES.

Today, I got into a shouting match, with my brain between my perceived external persona and my brain's narrator. It was all kinds of WHOA.

External Me: Hey brain voice, do you know you are shouting the email you are trying to compose? You needn't do that.
Brain Narrator: ACTUALLY, I DO RIGHT NOW. IT IS HELPING YOU FOCUS. JUST TRUST ME.
EM: I do not feel HELPED right now. In fact it feels like the opposite.
BN: NO, THIS IS A GOOD THING. THIS WAY YOU CANNOT HEAR THE USELESS BANTER OF OTHERS. SEE? IT IS ONLY ME SHOUTING. GREAT, HUH?
EM: (rubbing temples) That makes NO FUCKING SENSE, BRAIN. Please, just go back to normal volume. I promise I will stay focused.
BN: NOT YET. I AM REALLY SEEMING TO GET THE HANG OF THIS LOUD THING. GONNA RUN WITH IT FOR THE NEXT FEW HOURS.
EM: FINE. Just don't mind me when I box my own ears.
BN: WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER HOW AWESOME WE ARE BEING RIGHT NOW.

(this is what I imagine it would look like if re-inacted by a small asian child and a bovine-like animal)

And then my brain asploded. It's been happening a lot lately.


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