Brain Sex

God, I needed that badly. Thank you Mr. Nolan for providing a movie where it was okay to be intelligent again.

I started this blog in the hopes that I would chronicle me changing my life. Part of that change is finding out about who I really am; lying myself on an operating table and slowly extracting the nuts and bolts and cogs of my makeup.

It's not easy.

I found the bargain basement soon enough. There's not a lot there except DVDs I can't get rid of and a door. I happened to find it before when I was working on “The Big Adios” and was expunging memories for the sake of a character and I took a trip to the darkside. I'm not in a hurry to go back there.

Among the things that I found down there were this: I am self-absorbed, and I am depressed because I have no mental stimulation. Let me deal with the latter because the former could be it's own blog as well.

I have a depressing job: I currently answer phones for a service providing information on offenders. That's all I can say within the confines of the fear of losing my job. I've often said that what gives you life also kills you, and this is no exception. I've absorbed so much bad stuff from this job that the rest of the world is gray. Yes, I've gotten a few good ideas but at what price?

Sanity. Friendship. Happiness. The things people seem to put so much value on. I had been thinking that maybe it was me. Maybe since I was pursuing the writing thing that as I began closing the world off from access to myself that it was what I enjoyed (writing) that began upsetting people. Well, that could partly be to blame but what about being unhappy most of the time?

In the past few weeks I developed paranoia. I seriously do not know or remember how that happened. It gradually got to the point where I didn't want to talk to anyone outside of my circle, I didn't want to go out; I found myself literally afraid to talk with anyone else. In a bad mood I went and saw “Inception” today and for two-and-a-half hours I found my escape.

I got mindfucked. And, I realized what was going on.

I have no clue if anyone was picking up on me going crazy or being paranoid but if they were no one told me nothin'. Maybe “go see a counselor” (no money for that) but that was about it. No one asked me why I was feeling what I felt. I honestly had no clue about any of it.

After I walked out of the movie I realized my problem: I have no one to talk to on the same level as me, or even close. I can talk with others and even see where their thoughts seem to “cap” but for me I have problems feeling normal. Feeling like I actually belong. Hell, when I began working for Mojo I felt like “the nerd in the room” and nothing changed that feeling.

Again and again and again I find myself at that place where I'm afraid to change not because of changing but because of my creature comforts. I have bills to pay and my mouth to feed which isn't working so well on the whole hand-to-mouth plan. I live in a shitty apartment complex. I have no one to talk to. My job is depressing. I don't even know where to start fixing these problems.

But there is a bit of relaxation in brain sex. My wound-up nature has regressed for today and for once I'm alright. I'm okay. It's good to know that there's someone else intelligent on Planet Earth and that I could enjoy a movie without having to figure out what went wrong with it. Maybe I'll have to either go see the movie again or put on “The Prestige” or “Memento” to get brain laid again.

Thanks again, Mr. Nolan.