I am a lonely mind caught in the middle of the telepathic brainstorm I call thoughtspace.
A squall of thoughts regularly enters my mind from everyone around me: dreams, hopes and fears, joy and angst even the occasional terrible secret. I hear them all in thoughtspace. Shiny positive thoughts, negative thoughts, all dreary and dismal, and plain grey neutral ones; are all jumbled up like clothes in a washing machine.
Can’t wait to tell Mum, eight out of ten in my spellings.
Must walk Rover, or he’ll whine all night again.
No escape, only one answer.
The positive thoughts keep me sane. There are many benevolent minds out there in thoughtspace.
I’ll surprise her, she deserves a treat.
Got an hour or two to spare, wonder where I can volunteer?
A wallet!I’d better hand it in.
I can do nothing about the negative thoughts that keep me awake at night.
Trapped, worried. Too much debt, no way out.
I don’t want to go home. Must tell someone, but what if they don’t believe me?
Nobody needs me. Can’t go on making the same mistakes. Got to end it.
It is tragic. I know they are somewhere in the anonymous crowd but I am unable to help them. You have no idea how upsetting it is. My friends must wonder why I occasionally start crying, for no apparent reason. Occasionally, a tidal wave of negative emotion overwhelms my poor battered brain and it shuts down.
After many embarrassing and occasionally painful fainting episodes I learnt to spot the warning signs. I don’t go out when my condition is unbearable. When the tempest is at its most intense, I shut myself away until the storm surge subsides. I exercise early in the morning too; as a brisk walk or soothing swim seems to strengthen my mind’s defences.
My experiences of thoughtspace ebb and flow like the tide. The thoughts of others constantly whisper away in my head unbidden. They appear and disappear like dew in the morning.
I’m so angry. I’m gonna punch him.
I’m behind with the rent.
I love her, but I don’t deserve her.
Right, no one about, back door open… Iphone, great I’ll have that.
I could not tell you who that last thought came from, N or M? It is like a text from an unknown number. If I could pinpoint where such criminal thoughts come from I would be an asset to the local constabulary. There is no practical use for my accursed gift. Such a pity. If I could do some good, the pain would be worth it.
I cannot have any lasting relationships. Mainly, because I really don’t want to know what my partner thinks of me. The one time I did let someone into my life resulted in misery.
I’m the best you’re going to get.
No one could love you, you’re so boring.
I’ll dump ‘em just before Christmas. Not my fault.
It took me months to recover from that charming individual, whose real thoughts about me became so toxic. At least, I had some warning when their love for me had withered away.
I spent most of my teenage years in my room. I read avidly, as I tried to block the constant stream of thoughts from my family.
Kissed me today.
Lost my footie boots, what’s Mum going to say?
I hate this marriage. I’ve got to get away…
That last one gave me the most pain. I knew that one of my parents was planning to leave, but I had no idea which one. It was obviously no surprise to me when the split happened. However, the despairing thoughts of my siblings were agonising.
It is a blessed relief for the rest of the world, that people are not telepathic. To be privy to thoughts you have no business knowing is an awesome responsibility. If you too have access to thoughtspace; you have my sympathy. Perhaps we should meet and swap life stories. At least we could relax, because we would have no secrets from each other. I can dream of someone else to share my burden, can’t I?
To be alone with just my own thoughts for company is an unattainable luxury for me.
Merci pour la lecture!
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