In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ring of Fire.”
Where do I get started with this?
My mouth could be considered a Ring of Fire: with the amount of nonsense I talk, people have told me on occasion that I suffer with verbal diarrhoea! The things is, with the volume of jibber-jabber swirling around my brain, I need to vocalise it; otherwise, my grey matter would probably have exploded a long time ago.
So, when people tell me I speak an awful amount of crap, I tend to tell them that what I say out loud is only the tip of the iceberg – and that they should try coping with a mind that is basically an endless conveyor belt of nonsensical thought. Twenty-four-seven.
My brain is a Ring of Fire too, then.
Take night times, for instance. I don’t sleep well most nights, but in my waking hours I’m not plagued by anxieties about real life (most of the time). Oh no, I’m weighed down by thoughts like what it would be like to live next door to Harry Connick Jr or what the world would be like without cheese.
Anybody else may welcome a brain like this – and I know I’m lucky in lots of ways – but the fact is it all leaves me completely knackered. You see, my mind is as inquiring as it is random. So, if I’m thinking about what it is like to live next to Harry Connick Jr, then I’m going to play this one out: I hope Harry doesn’t have objections to the gazebo I’m thinking of putting up in the back garden; Harry’s invited me and my family over for a barbecue; I’m looking after Harry’s pet budgie, Daphne, whilst he goes on a tour of Australasia.
Maybe I try to do this to tire myself out to go back to sleep. It has the opposite effect, though, as I actually enjoy all the scenarios that play out. The problem is that I’m still thinking about it all as the dawn light begins to creep thru my curtains.
And so begins another day at work where my mind is overrun by a lack of sleep, a heavy workload and Harry Connick Jr.