My brain sneezed. Bless me.

I hate myself when I finish talking. Not because I want to talk more, but because I wish I would talk less.

My husband says I am a professional bubble popper. If you have an idea, a dream, a thought of something grandiose…tell me and I will pop your bubble. And usually be right.

I bought a T-Shirt the other day. It said I might be wrong…but I doubt it. That sums it up.

My brain seems to think faster than other peoples do. I make links in conversations with the piles of useless scraps of information floating in my synapses. When they are triggered, they join and make sense. Not just make sense, but really, they make more sense than they should. I don’t know how, or why.

When I start a task, I am not aware that I am doing it. My brain kicks into gear. I think, I think, I think then all of a sudden there it is. A cohesive thought that gosh darn it, makes sense.

I think my brain is weird. It thinks, of course, but it also goes loopy once in a while. It won’t shut off, or shut up.

I think about what I just said. I think about what I just wrote. I think about what I just did. I think about what I should do. What I could do. What I would do. What I didn’t do. I think about what others are thinking. I think about how the world works, doesn’t work, could work. It just keeps going.

Everything I see looks like an opportunity. I want to see it again. I want to try that. I could do that. I could do it better.   Have you ever thought of doing it like this? What about trying it like that? I was thinking that you could try it like this? What would happen if you did it like that?

Evaluate. Improve. Review. Feedback. Learn. Watch. Suggest. Hint.
Talented. Intelligent. Smart. Savvy. Wise. Experienced. Innovative. Original. Creative. Hard-working. Team player. Inspiring. Logical.
Glory hog. Self-centered. Opportunistic. Know-it-all. Big mouth.

Do I make sense? Am I talking out my ass? Does anyone else notice this? Would anyone else say anything?

I think I know what I am talking about. It make sense to me, the dots all connect by themselves without me even realizing it.

What do I want to do? What am I supposed to do? What do you want me to do? What should I do?

I think some days I want to learn just to be able to figure myself out. Someday, I will find that one book, hear that one lecture, talk to that one person who will tell me what path I am on. That I am not alone on it, and that others before me were successful at achieving something by it.

Success, what a mysterious word. When are you successful. Afterwards, is there not just another goal that needs to be fulfilled? How are people happy now, are they really fulfilled and content to be where they are? I cannot understand that state of just being. Not wanting to learn more, do more, meet more, think more. What an alien concept to not strive for something, for anything.

Is there anything less than your best? Is there such a thing or is the mediocre your best at that time in that context?

Context is immeasurable. It is perspective. It is the individual reality. Without it, nothing exists, for it is all in relation to another.

The apple is red. But, is it really? Is my red your red? Is it not a blend of greens, yellows, browns, whites, blacks, greys? Maybe that is part of the answer. If you train your eye to see only red, then you do not notice the greens and yellows. It is simply red. But to a mind that is forever looking closely, analyzing, evaluating, judging, comparing; there is no such thing as red.

Perspective is how you see it. Context is why you see it. Wisdom is how you interpret it. Happiness is how you deal with it. Challenge is how you make the experience better. Success, well, maybe it is just being able to notice it in the first place.

This is my brain.  This is my brain without drugs.  (You shoulda seen it in high school!)