ZainTheInsane
Well-Known Member
I don't know if anyone cares, and frankly, it probably doesn't matter. But I know how my mind works, and I'll give everyone a glimpse of what it is like to be me. Okay, take for example something as simple as walking down the street of any place. Like most people, there are a billion little thoughts rushing through my head. Though I know some people just have one or two, either because they are intensely focused, or just know how to quiet their minds...or perhaps they truly are one-dimensional.
Whatever the case, as I walk down the street, I notice the lines on the pavement, I wonder how long each line is, how deep the grooves are, what made the cement on the side-walk set the way it did, I wonder how the continual tread of people on this side-walk is affecting it, I wonder how long it will exist before it needs to be replaced with fresher cement which will in turn be worn. I look up, and see buildings, I wonder how tall each and every one of them are, as compared with myself, the trees going along the path, and whatever else seems handy. I notice which windows are open, which ones are closed. I notice the movement of a bird flying up into a tree, or a squirrel running up the trunk of the same tree.
Meanwhile I am counting how many steps I've taken, how many steps I am from the road, how many I am from the grass or fence on the other side. I keep track of what type of fence it is, I notice types of houses, how true they are to the original style in which the house was designed, I note which ones have had professional expansions, and which ones are done by the owner. I notice the types of cars in driveways, the cars passing on the street, the color of each. I note the texture of everything, be it wavy, grainy, rough or smooth. I see and count the number of branches a tree has, wondering how many leaves are on each of those branches.
During this same time I am watching people pass, or walk in front of me, I see the places from which all the people on the side-walk can be watched without being seen, even myself, I note the direction of the wind, the likely places someone would hide if they wanted to surprise someone walking along this side-walk.
I am also figuring out how fast I could get to the end of this block, how easily I could get around people in the process. I estimate how long it would take to subdue the people in front or behind me given my own knowledge of myself, and the bearing of the people both in front and behind me. I notice the body language that a young man across the street is giving to a young lady around his age. He likes her, but from her own body language, it is clear despite her laughter that she doesn't like him. Shortly there after the part ways, her laughing at him now in more of a nasty way, and him down-trodden, though his body language suggests that he's still determined as he turns away.
I see a couple ahead of me, their child crying, I note frustration in the father's face, though it disappears quickly enough when his wife smiles up at him, obviously enthralled by the new life. He pulls out a bag from the stroller they have, and they both prepare to change the child as I pass them. The father's eyes briefly glance at me, almost dangerous, and yet envious at the same time. I keep walking, my mind catching all these details, and doing something with them, on a subconscious level, continuous recognition, flowing through my mind, but never able to grasp what my mind is doing with all this information besides storing it.
I then turn the corner, and everything starts over again. And that is a little trip, inside my mind...
Whatever the case, as I walk down the street, I notice the lines on the pavement, I wonder how long each line is, how deep the grooves are, what made the cement on the side-walk set the way it did, I wonder how the continual tread of people on this side-walk is affecting it, I wonder how long it will exist before it needs to be replaced with fresher cement which will in turn be worn. I look up, and see buildings, I wonder how tall each and every one of them are, as compared with myself, the trees going along the path, and whatever else seems handy. I notice which windows are open, which ones are closed. I notice the movement of a bird flying up into a tree, or a squirrel running up the trunk of the same tree.
Meanwhile I am counting how many steps I've taken, how many steps I am from the road, how many I am from the grass or fence on the other side. I keep track of what type of fence it is, I notice types of houses, how true they are to the original style in which the house was designed, I note which ones have had professional expansions, and which ones are done by the owner. I notice the types of cars in driveways, the cars passing on the street, the color of each. I note the texture of everything, be it wavy, grainy, rough or smooth. I see and count the number of branches a tree has, wondering how many leaves are on each of those branches.
During this same time I am watching people pass, or walk in front of me, I see the places from which all the people on the side-walk can be watched without being seen, even myself, I note the direction of the wind, the likely places someone would hide if they wanted to surprise someone walking along this side-walk.
I am also figuring out how fast I could get to the end of this block, how easily I could get around people in the process. I estimate how long it would take to subdue the people in front or behind me given my own knowledge of myself, and the bearing of the people both in front and behind me. I notice the body language that a young man across the street is giving to a young lady around his age. He likes her, but from her own body language, it is clear despite her laughter that she doesn't like him. Shortly there after the part ways, her laughing at him now in more of a nasty way, and him down-trodden, though his body language suggests that he's still determined as he turns away.
I see a couple ahead of me, their child crying, I note frustration in the father's face, though it disappears quickly enough when his wife smiles up at him, obviously enthralled by the new life. He pulls out a bag from the stroller they have, and they both prepare to change the child as I pass them. The father's eyes briefly glance at me, almost dangerous, and yet envious at the same time. I keep walking, my mind catching all these details, and doing something with them, on a subconscious level, continuous recognition, flowing through my mind, but never able to grasp what my mind is doing with all this information besides storing it.
I then turn the corner, and everything starts over again. And that is a little trip, inside my mind...
