A Letter To My Brain

Do shut up.


Take your digs and snide innuendos elsewhere.

That goes for the roaring in the night as well.

Let me have a bit of peace, will you?

I know you can’t help it, but this macabre droning on and on is quite wearing.  And when I happen to wrench my attention away from your chuntering, with a bit of art or a movie, I can still see you out the corner of my eye, scribbling away in the corner, tallying up a new list of nearly plausible miseries, waiting for the chance to whisper them in my ear with your dog-sour breath.

Perhaps you need a hobby.  Archery ought to be right up your alley.  Or maybe a part-time job in Guantanamo.  Something to do with all your spare time.  I realize you think I’m your full-time responsibility, but a little vacation wouldn’t be amiss.  Visit Chernobyl.  Get a tan.

And even the creative blabber is getting old.  One cannot follow eleven creative impulses at a time no matter how fascinating or expensive.

Do you ever stop to breathe?  Let’s do that now, shall we?  Just stop, sit up from that predatory slouch, and take in a nice deep breath.  There now.  And while you’re doing that I’ll just step out the door….

8 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Kitty
    Jan 13, 2018 @ 11:14:33

    Amazing, this. You caught it… You called it out… You dismissed it with certainty and yet with Grace. Well done, you.

    All the Love! Kitty


  2. Dave Proudfit
    Jan 13, 2018 @ 11:35:18

    Very well written and great thoughts Sandy!


  3. Writer Lori
    Jan 15, 2018 @ 14:54:30

    Hope the message was received, Sandy! You certainly communicated it with dazzling skill!


  4. David Kanigan
    Jan 15, 2018 @ 19:59:55

    I so get it! I do! Better couldn’t have framed it up as well.


  5. David Kanigan
    Jan 15, 2018 @ 20:02:26

    “The faults that we impute to her can never be as grave as those she is charged with by her invisible tormentors.” Simone de Beauvoir, in her Foreword to Violette Leduc’s La Batarde (The Bastard).


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