05 May 2011

A mind of my own?

Sitting on the edge of my tub putting my knee high blue and black striped toe socks on, I thought, Hey, I haven't had a nosebleed in a while. I guess I am OK without the humidifier on.

At the precise moment that thought completed, I felt the telltale drip rolling down my right nostril.

Really? Maybe it's just drainage. I tipped my head back a little to see up my nostril in the mirror. Nope, blood slowly gathering at the precipice.

I stood up and reached for a square of toilet paper. Since the blood wasn't pouring like an open faucet, I took the time to fold the square into thirds, then in half. I tore it in half, took one piece, folded it in half and stuffed it up my right nostril. (For whatever reason, my nose typically favors bleeds exclusively to the right.)

I sat back down on the tub's edge and finished putting on my socks before standing up again.

After a minute, I pulled the toilet paper from my nose; the bleeding had stopped. It was seriously just one drop of blood.

My brain is fucking with me.

A voice from within, like mine but a bit deeper and gravelly like I'd been smoking for twenty years, said, "If you think your brain is separate from your body, a discrete location for your mind, you're wrong."

No, I know that. These past few months have made that abundantly clear. I don't need any more reminders.

With a smirk I felt more than saw, my body said, "I'm the boss of you, kid." If she had a pack of cigarettes, she would've deftly lit one and taken a long drag, blowing the smoke out in rings towards my face. I, in turn, would've brushed them away, coughing, as my body said, "Now why don't you run along."

A year ago on TTaT: Sketchbook, page 26


  1. I know her. She hangs out in my head a lot, smoking up a storm. I hope you turned on your humidifier and drowned her out.

  2. Haven't drowned her out. It's more like I'm sitting on the floor of her library, reading one of her books. She sits behind a beautiful mahogany desk, no longer smoking, but observing me, taking notes with a fountain pen, trying to decide.