And The White Knight Is Talking Backwards

Stream of consciousness. For those who don’t know what that is, reliable old Merriam-Webster defines it as:

“the continuous unedited chronological flow of conscious experience through the mind”

THAT’S the shit right THERE!

I’m of the belief that every action the mind seeks out beyond meeting basic needs is with the goal of hitting Stream of Consciousness. Unconsciously, of course πŸ˜‰

Drugs. Sex. Religious pursuits. Adrenaline fueled/inducing acts of daring. All things that aim to “connect” a person with something greater than the self they sit with day in and day out. The things humans seek out in an effort to “feel alive”,Β all have the ability to bring a person closer to clearer, higher level, thinking. The higher the level of thinking, the more fluid the stream of consciousness. Or so I like to think.

What I find perplexing is that so many people shy away from their own unconscious thoughts. Even if they pursue enlightenment through activities intended to bring them closer to their true selves. We all try so hard to be in control of every aspect of our existence, to speak and think clearly and make sure that our thoughts and words never offend anyone that we often push away free-flowing thought and in effect, genuine emotion.



Some people over-correct and become brash “I tell it like it IS! I say what I WANT and fuck y’all Sheep that get offended! Wooooohoooo!” versions of themselves in an effort to sit honestly with their truth. This often rears itself as a stereotype-bashing rant that edges (if not dives head first) right into the pool of ignorance.


Each of those leanings seem in direct juxtaposition to anything even remotely “higher level”.


I wonder if the Awkward Folks of our world might be closer to true enlightenment of self. Perhaps those among us that can have a thought and let it out into the world without prettying it up for popular consumption, despite feeling vulnerable and uneasy at doing so, without attaching it to a “position”, maybe they’re onto something.

Maybe, blathering on about an idea or feeling without questioning why it exists is a much needed boost to our existence rather than a detriment. Maybe conversational trips down rabbit holes should be viewed as welcome respite rather than killers of our overly -metered time.


Maybe I’m just creating a theory to shore up my reality and I’m tired of making excuses for how my mind and mouth works. Maybe I’m exhausted from trying to cull my thoughts to the limiting confines of social acceptability. Maybe I dig talking/writing in a way that doesn’t have a defined agenda and maybe I enjoy taking the trip and viewing the unexpected scenery it affords me.


And maybe I’m an egotistical asshole who is more concerned with entertaining herself than anyone else.


And maybe, just maybe, even though I know I’m supposed to (and often do) apologize for the winding path I take to a point, I like it that way.


-Slacker? Yes.


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