My mind, a torturous thing, churns with thought and worry. But is this a pain I must suffer through or can I, through some means, perhaps drugs, prostitution or more alcohol, cause it all to end?
Long ago I tried to explain this concept as a child, to a dopey doctor of some sort, that my mind cannot turn off. And it's not just a single, linear to follow path, but multiple concurrent screaming voices shouting endlessly. Every thought I follow is drowned out by 2 or 3 other streams flying through my head, having their own wandering ideas and speaking just loud enough about them that the thought I try to follow gets away from me. How am I ever meant to follow my own mind, nevermind a conversation with so much noise?
What I've never managed to understand this is I feel like my brain is distinctly only ever one of these chains of thoughts at a time, that the others are interruptive third parties, not myself, yet I know they are all in my head so are objectively my own mind and self. I find the concept funny when people hear these sorts of things and think you have 'voices in your head', like you're some kind of mental retard. The fuck do you mean by that, you don't have voices in your head? What goes on up there? Absolute fucktard NPC behaviour if I've ever seen it.
But this is exactly my point, see how all that thinking just got me mad right there? I yearn for the peace of a lobotomy, where my thoughts don't lead me into a room holding a pair of pliers, wondering what I was going to do with them. A mind where I can follow a conversation and have the ability to remember what their name was within literally 5 seconds of them telling it to me. The mental space to simply have a single thought that felt untainted by that of the rest babbling on constantly in their own worlds, but all too close to my mental ear.
Despite my declining mind, I am supposedly of superior, intelligent stock. Yet my intelligence is of no use when so distracted and, more importantly, completely useless in most real world cases. Sure, I love logic puzzles which is mostly what IQ tests happen to be formed of, but I am simply mentally deficient at solving the puzzle of life. Hell, solving it is a far off goal for many, even just being able to figure out where I put my knight on the ouija board would be a start.
Yet everyone expects great things of me. My family all said I was to be their future, their hope, that I would be the one to save them. They put a great weight on my shoulders, but the moment the world relied on me, I checked out of reality. They don't say it, but their disappointment stinks like microwaved fish whenever I'm around, or perhaps I need to shower.
But it is clear to me at this point in life that I am not going to improve any more, get any smarter, or achieve anything great. I've had 26 years now to do something, and I've spent almost every moment I had the choice to do something, to toil and writhe in the confines of my decrepit mind, in the same hovel I've carved for myself in the same house I've occupied my whole life. Would it be like this, if I was just a little more retarded in the right ways?
What must I do for the peace of mind of a Gump-pilled simpleton?