# Post 500 words of your inner monologue...no editing



## PoloniumCyanide (Aug 17, 2015)

In the interest of mindfullness self-awareness, post 500 words of your internal monologue, don't judge it, don't edit it, just type it and hit enter. If you like, post your enneagram type as well.


----------



## Lord Fenix Wulfheart (Aug 18, 2015)

Hmm I wonder who this guy is that he wants to hear my internal monologue. This reminds me of the last time someone wanted to know the way my mind works, and how I had to explain to him the concept of a library with - wait, no, that was earlier. The actual last time was with <name redacted> when he asked me - no, I asked him how he would rate ...uhmm...The Boondocks Saints, that's right, how he would rate the Saints on a scale of Face/Off to Total Recall. And he was like "What? You mean a scale of 1 to 10?" and I said nah, a scale of those concepts against each other and he just kinda stared at me so I said rate it however you want to and so he did so by placing all three on a scale of 1 to 10. Then I told him, see, that's how a Sensor thinks, with definitions and the use of concepts that they have seen or used before in the past. You didn't want to learn the new scale I posited, but instead chose what you are more comfortable with. By the way I don't care that this is going past 500 words or that it is now changing topic mid-idea, so go screw off. Oh gawd, that sounds horrible and uncharitable but I can't delete it because of the rules Anyway, I then proceeded to break down both movies and analyze their details against one another (somewhat clusily as the ideas were clear in my head but hard to communicate) as I showed the similarities and differences, and finally determined that the Boondocks Saints has much more in common with Face/Off than it does Total Recall. I gave it a rating of 4 smile and a smirk towards Face/Off, and 2 and a half smiles towards Total Recall. Then I told him "THAT'S how I think, and that is why we have trouble communicating" and he was like "Yeah, OK< we are very very different people lol!" An oh man oh man I hope I didn't offend but you did ask to have my thoughts unfiltered sorry sorry *pictures a face crumpled in worry and empathy and projects it outward until own face assumes that expression) and OK I'm done


----------



## Lord Fenix Wulfheart (Aug 18, 2015)

Hah, it wasn't actually 500 words yet. I got self conscious and quit too early


----------



## PoloniumCyanide (Aug 17, 2015)

OK, how does this thing work again? Right, clear your mind and focus on your breathing. What? Tim Robbins as Andy Dufresne and a new red bicycle, what does that have to do with anything? NOTE: analyse that later, back to breathing...golden buddha statue, cliche. The aliens from the Simpsons complete with theromin music, and also the end of that Rugrats game where you had to get Reptar through the city. What was that noise? Hope the gecko hasn't knocked out the temp probe. My curtains look really odd in my peripheral vision, it's like a depth of field pull focus thing where the red pops out. Girl in the snow from schinldler's list transforms in to a Final Fantasy anime and does a pirouette into the sky, think it's that character Kyra I made...panda sock puppet framed by red theatre curtains, think that was meant to be a badger though because of the hills. Ribena. The king of the beavers, the king of the beavers, you cannot deceive us and you can't fool owls. I'm starting to see a pattern. The people on Personality Cafe will think this is scripted. A doe-eyed little three year old is getting told of by her dad, she has a lime green T-shirt.


----------



## PoloniumCyanide (Aug 17, 2015)

Fenix Wulfheart said:


> Hah, it wasn't actually 500 words yet. I got self conscious and quit too early


Maybe 500 was a little ambitious LOL. It's funny the little in-jokes and symbols we have in our heads.


----------



## Quang (Sep 4, 2014)

"500 words?"

"Too much work"


----------



## PoloniumCyanide (Aug 17, 2015)

@Quang



> "500 words?"
> 
> "Too much work"


One more line and that becomes a profound non-traditional haiku


----------



## disguise (Jan 17, 2014)

Word count: 500 


_There's a sort of confusion which has settled into my brain as I've read the request for an inner monologue. Is it genuine if I start to narrate a monologue from second go, having seen this post? 500 words is indeed quite a lot, as Quang has mentioned. I could just as well be writing an essay. A short one. With a 500 word limit. 

I've got plenty of essays to write, and I'm aware of how they place themselves in my mental calendar. In fact, one 4000 word essay should be written by Monday. I have about a 1000 words down, and time is running spare. Why am I avoiding this work that will influence my general performance and thus my future? 

I've become unruly with my life. They say this happens eventually to everyone, a sort of breaking in one's ability to do well. A downhill due to meaningless distractions. It could be an affair, it could be losing oneself in bottomless pints. Like Marmeladov in Crime and Punishment. That is a book I am reading in order to write a proper analysis on the themes of death in that particular book. While I keep reading the book, I am coming by these interesting almost existential questions about suffering. We cannot avoid suffering. 

Wow. My head is getting crowded. I see so much more than I can write. I'm trying to keep this monologue coherent and the parts linked to each other. No editing, no editing. Alright. 

If I were to explain my discoveries on suffering, I'd be again using up words I could be using somewhere else, productively. 

I keep thinking here, how all of this task-focusedness sounds like a type three, but then again... am I pretending? Here I am, procrastinating by writing about my piles and miles of work. Am I a hard worker if I avoid working? Of course not. I can pretend to be one, say that I am one, tell you how I could be if I were to be an achiever. This is in fact how I go about my life: presenting an image to you, which doesn’t necessarily match my actions. My actions are puny. I don’t do that many things that are extraordinary, even though I might plan or narrate such a story to you.

Sigh. This seems rather pointless. But I feel like I’m being genuine about my monologue. Having said that, I ought to also tell about my feelings towards writing such a mess: I feel like someone might catch me in act of being something I do not want to be. That’s the dread and trap of typology forums. It is difficult to hide from the ones who want to discover how you are regardless of your self-identified labels. What if I am not what I say I am and am by my true nature something that repels me? What if someone is able to toss a mask from my face and show that I am (...)_

Aaand the ramble continues for 278 words:


* *





(...) _indeed ugly underneath the layers of synthetic skin I have so carefully constructed upon the true contours of my face?

One thing confuses me with this monologue: am I supposed to write what pops up in my head as images as I let the words grumble from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my fingers, or am I just supposed to give you the words that are pulled together from those images? Since as I walk through my thoughts, I am in a cinematic hallway. Every time I write a word, I take a step down the lane. And as I keep walking forth, I see from my peripheral vision several TV screens side by side displaying images that are closely or remotely related to what I have written. They are my memories. My visual thought. My associative imagery. But they just serve as a side view to my walk. They are not my shoes, but instead just the scenery I pass by. So, they aren’t really the bulk of my monologue. But then again, they are a big influence to my verbal thoughts. So if one only knows what kind of steps I take, they miss half the story! They don’t know what I saw when I took those steps forward, and consequently they have no clue what I feel and they only partially know what I think.

That’s the nature of my mind. You can’t see what I see unless you are me. And now I ask: isn’t that an obvious deduction? And then I conclude: due to this skewed half-hidden nature of my thoughts, you get barely a thing from reading this._


Sharing this feels sort of intimate :bored: The irony of having it on a public forum...


----------



## Entropic (Jun 15, 2012)

Write about inner monologue? What monologue? (imagines wooshing sounds in my head). Yep.


----------



## Grandmaster Yoda (Jan 18, 2014)

Everything I see is part of the monologue, it is all one.


----------



## ScientiaOmnisEst (Oct 2, 2013)

*sees title*


----------



## PoloniumCyanide (Aug 17, 2015)

ScientiaOmnisEst said:


> *sees title*


Thanks for laying yourself bear for us


----------



## HellCat (Jan 17, 2013)

In this selfie obsessed body shaming world I find that we used to be nomads who painted on walls in our spit and blood comforting, because once upon a time all we cared about was survival now the survival is just who can abuse the other the most. why is it my cat is climbing on me can he sense the baby is it still alive . . I call it schrodingers baby I hate that I have a phobia fuck that why should I have a phobia nothing else scares me other than being told I am crazy why is that why does society get to label people crazy anyway shouldnt they be allowed to do whatever the fuck they want as long as they arent hurting anyone else and if they are remove them from society or punish them but ifthey are no danger to themselves or others leave them the fuck alone we should have an unrestricted reign over our fucking bodies including being allowed to remove ourselves from life if we so choose because its bullshit cat feels warm he is so cuddly lately more than ever I keep dreaming about the baby in my dreams its alive, oh just get an ultrasound people say but they have never beenm a fucking immigrant in a country they cant even understand the language and have people talk to their husband in front of them knowing goddamn well everyone speaks english they do not understand the bigotry you encounter as an immigrant, or a woman or a womans whose medical history surpasses natural knowledge already.. they dont get it. it took six doctors to diagnose a watermelon sized tumor in the usa and I almost died there trusting those cunts knowledge. no thankyou I was already cut down just for being american and a female by one american hating gyno this year I have no desire to visit anymore unless the pain gets too bad or he tells me he senses something is wrong with the baby then I will because I would rather dope myself with something and get through it then disappoint him. if it werent for my cat I would have lost my mind this year. while I applaud scientific breakthrough I think that it has also handicapped people who rely on one method and one method only to detect something when 1 in 600 women do not pass hcg tests because their bodies simply make too much or too little at times some even fail ultrasounds, why can't they make a better technology than relying on sound waves if they can 3d print organs I should have said shut up and do your job that you are being paid to do instead of going mute after the argument but for once in my life I was truly scared and I empathize so much with immigrants now I can't imagine being an illegal one and trying to function I would be hiding under a bridge just making friends with cats and living in the woods away from the very cruel society we live in today sometimes I wish we could just go back to being nomads who paint in our blood and spit. We had more compassion then


----------



## Donovan (Nov 3, 2009)

it may be a public forum, but does anyone really know anyone beyond what is read here (excluding those who have contact in other mediums)...? 

one of my first thoughts is: block. as in, there's a block. i'll have 'something' going on, for lack of a better word, but as soon as it's asked for, my focus towards who's doing the asking and there's no longer an inward view or awareness. 
it's funny that something as simple as sharing a piece of yourself can actually be so painful--again, for lack of a better word. the feeling is almost the same as when, if you're like me, you've stayed up waaaay too late and now sleeping is this weird, heavier-than-it-should-be ball of weight beneath your solar plexus, drawing your body sense away and upending it so that with eyes closed you're losing your orientation--kind of like when an elevator slightly drops, and so does your stomach--but now you've been so weakened by lack of sleep that you don't have even the energy to stave off that 'dropping feeling', and so you just slowly let it work its control over you until it's taken all awareness away and you drift off to sleep and peace, and realize that that was always the move to make, and should be, from beginning to end. 
i've said and shared stuff, but to me these have all just been facts attached to me, and not a "sharing of myself"--at all. so the feeling is there, but so is the block, and once the block leaves that feeling of lacking the energy or strength to "accurately"--whatever that word could mean in this context--deal with it, or to even know how to deal with that form of expression, to not feel myself slowly weakening and crumbling in the/an emergence of something that has to be new... but again, there's very much a jump and a leap, a hope and a giving in, relinquishing. 

i talk about it all day long and dance around it with words, but oh my f-ing god, it is THE hardest thing for me. i always feel like i'm about to--lol--i don't know, get smacked by a mac truck as soon let it down. it's ridiculous; as if doing something as benign, positive, and nice as shaking another's hand gives you cause for pause, like, "no, i'm not strong enough, you don't understand though!"--lol, damn... 

i put a down payment on a keyboard with weighted keys (oriented to sounding like a piano--the only setting on it that i care about, cause now i'll have what amounts to a portable one). something i've been wanting to do for a while... started learning sheet music the other day, also learned how to fix my broken headlight (and how to drive to avoid cops at night who speed out like fucking wolves every time i drive pas them, only to veer off once they, apparently and supposedly, realize that i've already been issued something for that... i'm guessing it pops up on their computer screens once they run my tags...). 
but i cannot wait to start deconstructing and understanding music in general. my... "friend", i guess, got a guitar for her birthday, and so now we can play and speak music with each other. 

take care.


----------



## Korvyna (Dec 4, 2009)

Internal Monologue you say.... Well, all right then...

I should probably input these forms. It'll only take a few minutes...but I'll just get to that after I check forums and facebook. Holy shit that's a big bug. If I had a glass I'd cover it because I don't want to kill it, but I also don't want it near me. Oh God, there it is again. How am I going to work until I know this thing is gone?! Okay, haven't seen it in a few minutes... What was I doing again? Oh yeah... Again, I should really put these forms in and get them off my desk. I still need to file all those permits, too. Ugh, I know I want to go to the gym tonight, but tonight's the night they close early... Which means either a rushed dinner and then running to the gym...or the gym and then a later dinner. I hate eating dinner late, but I also hate eating and then running to the gym. I guess later dinner it is. Hmm... I should cook, but I don't think I have anything to work with. I really need to find time to go to the store... Since we're kid free tonight it would be wise to go tonight...which means it won't happen, because let's face it, when was the last time you did anything wise? Oh, there are those forms...I still haven't input. Seriously, stop slacking and procrastinating. It literally takes 10 minutes tops to input the 20 or so you have! Just do it! I think I just saw something move out of the corner of my eye... Oh! It's that bug again. Where'd that book go. I don't want to kill it, but I can't stand it anymore. And, I think I nailed him... But I'm not sure... And I don't want to go lift the book to find out... I'll just leave it there until I'm done putting these forms in. Dammit. Now I have to pee. Why do I always have to pee when I get on a roll inputting forms? Horrifying. I just moved the book I threw on the bug and it didn't kill it. He just crawled away after I moved it. I bet it's good and pissed off at me now. Maybe I will go to the bathroom...and take a walk... 

Yep, that's seriously what my thoughts are. Almost daily when I try to do anything, my mind wanders to dinner plans, workout plans, shopping I need to do, and random stuff that is annoying me. Not 500 words...but I have to pee and there is a bug plotting revenge in my office...so I had to wrap it up. :tongue:


----------



## Animal (May 29, 2012)

I don't think in words. I think in music and images. I have to translate it into words which is why I suck so much at writing books compared to how easily I write music and take photos and even make music videos. My monologue is over now


----------



## Daeva (Apr 18, 2011)

I had this song stuck in my head so...

Putthe lime in the coconut and drink it all up, You put the lime in thecoconut and drink it all up, You put the lime in the coconut anddrink it all up, You put the lime in the coconut and call the doctorwoke him up, I said Doctor! Is there nothing I can take, I saidDoctor! To relieve this bellyache, I said Doctor! Is there nothing Ican take, I said Doctor! To relieve this bellyache, Oh let me getthis straight, Oh mister Doctor man I think I'm going insane, Mygirl's been creepin' on me and my heart is filled with pain, Now Ican't sleep, can't eat, can't stop this funky beat, Can't you hear itshe keeps playing in my head, Baby You really drive me coconuts, Tellme, what am I gonna do?, You put the lime in the coconut and drink itall up, You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up, You putthe lime in the coconut and drink it all up, You put the lime in thecoconut and call the doctor, woke him up, I said doctor, is therenothing I can take, I said doctor, to relieve this bellyache, I saiddoctor, is there nothing I can take, I said doctor, to relieve thisbellyache, let me get this straight, My temperature is up to 103, Isthere anything you can prescribe for me? Well the doctor said "Hmmm,now let me see, just keep your body moving that's what works for me",Baby, you really drive me coconuts, Tell me, what am I gonna do?, Youput the lime in the coconut and drink them both together, Put thelime in the coconut and you feel better, Put the lime in the coconutand drink 'em all up, You put the lime in the coconut and call me inthe morning, doctor, is there nothing I can take, I said doctor, torelieve this bellyache, I said doctor, is there nothing I can take, Isaid doctor, to relieve this bellyache, I can't catch myself, hey docI'm sick, I'm feelin' all run down, I'm sinking like a brick, I'veseen dots in front of my eyes, But you talk about coconuts, andyou're feeding me limes?, Different remedies you're giving to me, butnothing's working, Doc, if you don't tend to me I'm gonna be the bigbad wolf, And blow your house down, You put the lime in the coconutand drink it all up, Put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up,You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up, Put the lime inthe coconut; you're such a silly one, You put the lime in the coconutand drink 'em both together, Put the lime in the coconut and you feelbetter, Put the lime in the coconut and drink 'em all down, You putthe lime in the coconut and call me in the mornin', Woooo Woooo, Isthere nothing I can take, Wooo Wooo, To relieve this bellyache, Isaid, Oh Wooo Wooo, Is there nothing I can take I said, Wooo Wooo, Torelieve this bellyache I said, Yeah Yeah, Is there nothing I can takeI said, Wah Wahh, To relieve this bellyache I said, Doctor! Is therenothing I can take I said, Doctor! To relieve this bellyache, Put thelime in the coconut and drink 'em both together, Put the lime in thecoconut and then you'll feel better, Put the lime in the coconut anddrink it all up, You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up,You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up


----------



## Quernus (Dec 8, 2011)

When I was in the seventh grade we had to write, free form, non-stop, for a certain amount of time. He said don't worry if there are uhs and ums, and everyone would groan when we had to do this exercise. But I loved it, the release, I would write and write and my hand would cramp, I write so quickly but still not quickly enough to keep up with my thoughts. And my handwriting is so bad, but if it existed in the perfect legibility, those words would not be any clearer. Inside I laughed like a mad joker at the delight of these safeguards but also wanted to break the pencil in frustration about these safeguards. Breaking the pencil is never satisfying enough, it's so easy, and I get angrier.

Life isn't fair because humans made up the concept of fairness but humans did not create this planet. This freakish existence evolved from these delicate, life-sustaining conditions... was not engineered by people. 

People die and things are lost and illusions are shattered, and when that happens, pieces within me die. But we are always moving towards death. People think of death as a sudden punctuation, but we are always dying, all the time. Not just biologically, but emotionally and spiritually if you believe in that. Sometimes chapters close neatly and succinctly, and sometimes pages are torn out violently and thrown into the fire. And we're always coming to life in ways too, I guess, or well, I'd like to believe. In my vision of the future, the rate of death far exceeds the rate of birth within me, like an emotional pandemic. But never mind that. Sometimes parts within us reach the brink of death, and are nursed back. Sometimes they die too soon but oh well it's not fair but it's how it is. Sometimes these parts of us hold on, sickly and tormented for far too long. Sometimes it's timely and makes sense. But by the time our hearts stop beating, we have died a thousand times.

I'm tired of hearing about scars, of being gouged yet still being able to carry on. I have learned some things in the past year or so that have changed me quite a bit: The nights I've spent since childhood just aching with sorrow, or shaking with anger, and dismay that there was nothing to do about it.... will continue throughout my life. I am the only one who can process it and in that sense I am alone. Abandonment is an illusion because support is always conditional in the first place. Rejection doesn't have power because I have nothing to prove before being given an opportunity to do so.


----------



## Quernus (Dec 8, 2011)

I can't sleep, I can't sleep, I want to be up higher, on a treetop, in the night sky, but then I'd be too elated to drift off into slumber.

I'm tired of this body image bullshit, of this obsession with my body, just a body. I need it to know ecstasy - the roots of the word mean outside stasis, outside yourself, really. You can't be outside something that doesn't exist, so the body must exist. I hate watching myself and seeing if I'm fatter, if the danger of my self-abuse has become visibly imminent. I'm slender, I'm tall, I'm fierce. If I eat because I'm upset then you can see it on my body, all my secrets and weaknesses. Gender is so terribly confusing and it is a construct so then why does it matter but oh the dysphoria is killing me.

I hope tomorrow morning I have time enough to shower, before work, because I'm not feeling so well right now and I will feel even worse in the morning. Because I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep. First there comes a galloping and then there is a howling, a howling and a pounding and a storming in my mind. No, it's not always like that. Sometimes it's circus chatter, like from the audience, round the tent. Or sometimes those same pictures play and it's too fun to give up. 

I don't know how many words this is. I already did one of these. Sometimes when I write like this I look back and think what in gods name was I talking about, I seemed so very convinced at the time that what I said was true but clearly... no. Back on earth.

He's coming into town and I'm afraid to see him because of my body image issues, god I hate it, I hate it so much, but in the times I've just given in and said screw it and let myself be free, not worried about judgement, I kind of feel underwhelmed. It's more rewarding to psyche myself out, when pain is pleasure. 

I just don't smell good right now, is all I'm saying.

sometimes I wish people would just believe me. Or humor me. Not tell me I'm reading too much into things. I'm so extreme, I know it, but it helps me process. I'm not delusional - yet. Let me be this way, the correct perspective is self-evident over time, don't shame me for how I interact and perceive myself against the world. My narrative is all I have. Maybe life is just more worth living when I exaggerate and analyze and jump into the fire. I don't even advocate for what I say, all the time. I'm just exploring parameters. 

I don't need more help feeling bad about myself or doubting myself or my thoughts. Really.


----------



## Lord Bullingdon (Aug 9, 2014)

Same, I think in music and images and memories and "movie scenes". My brain chatters along in words sometimes, but it's hard for me to even finish a statement inside my head, I change topics too rapidly. And I can never remember what it was I was thinking, anyway . Any monologue is strongest when I'm walking along the sidewalk bitching at every slow stupid thing in my way. Like how 1s have an inner critic? I have an inner asshole.

(I'm not walking now, I'm listening to the music inside my head. This post actually took some exertion.)


----------



## Axe (Aug 1, 2014)

don't we need some direction in order to create a monologue?


----------



## Axe (Aug 1, 2014)

OK I'LL TRY THIS THING.

I'LL JUST SAY WHAT WORDS COME TO MY MIND...

1... 2... 3... GO !

Once upon a time there was a 

Damnit! Nothing's coming to me. Is this meant to be a story? I need some music. This song sucks. This one will do. Where'd it come from?

I could have a cigarette. Maybe then words will come to me. Ok back. I seemed to wonder if it was raining. No drops fell on me, but I heard some hit the ground. And I heard the ocean in the distance.

I'm not very good at this am I.

I am trying..


----------



## SalvinaZerelda (Aug 26, 2010)

I sometimes struggle so much to participate in discussions. I feel like an outsider watching the world go by. I'm wondering about enneagram and MBTI personality types because I read a discussion [or was it a debate? @[email protected]] about how certain mbti types act based on their enneagram. Did they see types as too clearcut? or did I and the person that actually debated my exact stance see types as too clearcut?
I want to say that whole debate was a mess, but honestly, I felt like he was nit-picking, as is what happens when people try to argue with people that know what they're talking about.

Anyways..discussions.. I sit there and watch as the world passes me by, an alien, an outsider, and.. I have so much to say.. but I'm so perfectionistic about what I say that I can't bring myself to say anything at all.
I found a magical magical book today, though..
I suddenly understand that discussions are kind of like a casual CLASS verrrrry similar to debates.. ugh.. the words fail me right now..
but.. you aren't supposed to listen to learn, you're supposed to listen to participate in solving an often unspoken problem.

I'm watching my word count.. I'm at 204 words.. I'm too lazy to count my own words.. -sighs- If an apocalypse happened, the word counter is something I would miss terribly. I don't even use this very often, but this is saving me so much time.. >.<

I'm wondering about my words.. my phrasings.. how rigid do I sound? I imagine I sound very rigid to the point that people would have a hard time believing I'm a feeler.
I see so much randomness in myself.. however, I have toned down my Ne quite a lot.. thank goodness.. I was feeling a little bit overwhelmed.. I was overwhelming myself..

Language.. when people are trying to learn English, and they're sounding sad and stuff because they don't know English very well.. I imagine that they feel bullied by grammar nazis.. even though I have been a grammar nazi in the past, and I still feel a strong desire to correct people's grammar and spelling, I don't want to be discouraging.. and I'm sad that there are people that are being discouraging and offputting to the people interested in learning English.
but anyways.. ever since I read a certain post, I felt so bad for the person that I dumbed my own language skills down to.. erm.. pamper? no, that's not the word.. to cater to them! Yes, that's the word..
I knew something they didn't. I was in the position of teacher without realizing, perhaps..
I could have.. encouraged them, boosted their self-esteem, taught them skills.. maybe.. heh. [If I even know how to teach English.]
If I couldn't teach them, I could have directed them to someone nice that would be glad to help and have better skills than me.

I dumbed myself down for someone else's sake. 
Should I feel ashamed?

_[sorry, I edited the misspellings I made on impulse.. I didn't bother the content other than that, though.]_


----------



## Ace Face (Nov 13, 2011)

Why do I feel so crappy today? Maybe it's because the song I have stuck in my head is insanely depressing. Other than that, I don't think there's any reason I would be feeling just blah. But then again, I think I am getting sick. My neck is stiff, food sounds gross, my throat hurts, and my sinuses are packed. This financial situation is also weighing on me. There's nothing I can do about it that I'm not already doing though. I need to trust the process. The rest is just about patience. I can do this. I have to stay positive and believe that I have the job. I'm pretty sure they like me. I mean, he's already treating me as if I have the job. He made me go get physical, made me take a pee test, and told me to prepare for the psychological testing and for my meeting with the captain. Surely, all others have been eliminated at this point. I think I've got the job. Stay positive no matter what. No amount of scrutinizing what you could have done better is going to change the outcome. Even if I don't get what I want, I know that things will work out fine. Everything will turn out the way it's supposed to. Have faith, and make the best of whatever happens whether you get what you want/what you've been working so hard for or not. You can do this! Keep your mind clear of filth and stay focused on the bigger picture. It's all about perspective. It really is. Renew your mind daily. Whatsoever things are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report... think on these things. Keep control of your mind. This is every person's greatest battle. We are all constantly at war with our own minds. Embrace and embody your power and your potential. This is the key to your happiness and your success.

#322words


----------



## elli333 (Aug 28, 2015)

Hm, okay... what DO I usually think of? "How to determine one's level of health", what's that about? Health according to whom? Maybe I should check it out. Maybe it's stupid... My eyebrow is itchy. And my back hurts. What if I would use the desk instead of just sitting on my bed when I'm on my laptop..? I wonder when I'll get my math exam back. It sucks that I screwed up one of the assignments, but I bet I passed anyway. Oh, damn tinnitus beep, must be because of clenching my jaw too much. Fuck, this is so weird, writing down my thoughts without editing. I guess I should be thinking more about world domination and less about sensory input to fit the INTJ stereotype.. hah! I wonder how common it is to develop stronger Si because of disease? I haven't been coughing for days now, I guess I must be doing something right! Is it because I'm using up my old Symbicort inhaler instead of using Innovair? Symbicort _used to_ make me cough more... they contain the same substances anyway. Symbicort has more cortisone though, maybe that's it? But then again, that research paper showed that Innovair is as strong because the smaller particle size makes it easier to absorb and reaches the smaller airways better. So, if anything, I guess I should be feeling worse..? Now my nose is itching.. is it 500 words yet?


----------



## sweetraglansweater (Jul 31, 2015)

Avoiding my work will only get me behind. How does the oxaback lillas folding back beam work and will it be a good investment i hate the color of my blanket and i am sick of weaving blanketa. Next time im asking my mentor for a more challenging job like lace curtains or weaving tartan yarsage. Will she let me weave on the ideal on the patio i bet i can get 20 yrds of huck lace done. When my apprenticeships complete i dont want to do my own biz. Stay here forevet. I bet i could find a covent to join where they would let me weave in peace. Shit 5 is almost here. I hate new students emotional suck. Hide in the laundry room until dinnet. Gotta finish that damn ugly blanket. Strawberry lemonaide. Shirking.


----------



## Angelic Gardevoir (Oct 7, 2010)

Um okay I have no idea what to type really. Well actually I was kinda planning out some things that were currently running through my head. Uh, the Steven Universe ending song “Love Like You” was looping through my head. Heh, my brain must be an interesting place. Or maybe not so interesting. You know that if you randomly interrupt someone and ask them exactly what they were thinking about, they wouldn’t be able to describe it? Pretty sure I heard that on some education show thing somewhere. My mind is really fuzzy. It just seems like a lot of vague thoughts and things that I have to make an effort to put into words. Wait, did this say no editing? Crap, does that mean no backspace? Ugh, I’m such a perfectionist. I have to precisely get out what I’m saying. And I just backspaced again! Argh! Anyway, I have to precisely get out what I’m saying because it just doesn’t feel right if I don’t have the right words. I have to sound very educated…or maybe the right word is articulate. No? Ugh, on the tip of my tongue. ELOQUENT THAT’S IT! I hate it when that happens. So…what else to write? Do you really want to know my deepest inner thoughts? Or everything about my life? Well, I got a crappy job at Dairy Queen recently. Not that that matters. And I’m composing this in Microsoft Word. Just 239 words? Really? When will it end? And it’s 3 am here. I should go to bed, but I don’t wanna. I have a messed up sleep schedule. It’s been that way since my grandfather was sick. I took off from college and my grandmother basically gave me permission to stay up super late with the stipulation that I would have to keep an eye on my grandfather while sleeping. To clarify, he had lung cancer. He had had lung problems for a long time, since he was diagnosed with emphysema when I was a kid. Wait, this was supposed to be 500 words, right? 500 words feels like a lot of words. And this is just going to be one big giant wall of text. What will this say about my enneagram type, if anything? I doubt this is saying anything type specific. People’s stream of consciousness is pretty random anyway. I’m sleepy. I should bed. But no, I got to look on the forums to see new threads to help me understand the enneagram so I can finally type a character. I’ll probably never be able to type that character to my satisfaction, lol. 436 words…gotta come up with about 70 more words. Uh…cake? Pie? Ice cream? Apple? Sleepy sleepy sleep sleep. I like beds. I like lying in bed. Just…being by myself, with my thoughts, imagining whatever I want to imagine to get to sleep. And then I have dreams. Weird, random dreams. I wonder if it could be genetic, since my grandfather had wild dreams too.

(For the record, I'm a 6)


----------



## Blindspots (Jan 27, 2014)

These days, I can already tie my hair into a ponytail, and that length means it's time for a trim.

But I wonder when I can find the time this week. I have lots of things I've put off for the past three weeks because of this illness, things I need to do as I work towards applying for a Master's program on October. Long-term, career- and interest-related things. Things that involve schoolwork and paperwork at my college I need to bring back and forth between offices and campuses. I wasn't able to sit-in at the foundational classes and volunteer at my second museum as I planned before, so I wonder if I'm ready for applying this soon. 

Then again, if I don't apply on October, it'll be another semester of attending classes (at least I'll be able to enrol officially for these undergrad courses this time around), volunteering, taking trips to places. I can plan it out, find activities that can supplement my learning in the meantime, like working in organizations aside from museums, interviewing artists and directors, studying at my own pace like I've been doing for the past few months. I can, really. And I know I'll learn as much from it, if not a broader body of knowledge, than if I start on a curriculum designed and accredited by a formal institution six months earlier than I'm prepared for.
It's just that the thought of, for another year, going home and being rather embarrassed for not bringing home a diploma or a monthly salary or a "real" job title, it makes me a bit anxious.

Eh, not 500 words yet.

I wonder, since when was I so concerned about my curriculum vitae, about being in step with people my age, with being accredited by some other authority? Is this me growing up? "Growing up" like everyone else? Normally?
And I wonder, will anyone else care to read my plans for the near future? This is the topic I have been mulling over for a while, but maybe if I answered this thread at another time, I may have started writing about something else. Probably something about my dog, or how my stuff are still on my bed and it's almost time to sleep. Or how I haven't visualized my day tomorrow and rehearsed major tasks in my head and how it's bothering me because I haven't gone anywhere aside from the hospital for the past three weeks. Existential, task-oriented, busy personal stuff that no one else relates to. This is what usually goes on in my mind nowadays, it seems.

The "big questions" that people ponder on, the meaning behind things, the meaning of the meaning behind things, those things I ponder while I'm about to sleep, showering, commuting, or idle while waiting in line for something, which I anticipate will be more often once I restart my routine. Does that make me less of a profound and intellectual person, I wonder? How much do almost-concrete plans count as intellectual activity? Am I really as smart a person as I thought I am?

Oh good, well past 500 words.



-
The wording in my head is rather slow, the ideas and gestures I visualize end up outrunning my narration of them. I couldn't do it without getting at least a little self-conscious.


----------



## hypernova_calm (May 15, 2015)

Alright. I'll do it. Five-Hundred words, not gonna count. Another damn Monday. I'm hungry. Need to go get some food. My thoughts... they're disjointed. I think I have a test to take today... or was it Tuesday? Hope it was the latter, not trying to fail this shit again. Right now... I should be studying my ass off. Can't focus. If I fail and get re-rated it might be for the best though. I despise failure at this level... then it becomes, what's gonna happen next? Will my stay in this hell be prolonged for another 6 months if I go IT? Will I be just another re-rate to CTR? If I simply admit depression is the major force holding me back... The reason I've been getting by with nothing more than fifty percent... Will I be discharged and sent home instead. Heh. What home? ... Tsk, I hate this monologue shit, hate people seeing what's in my mind.
What is this song I have stuck in my head? From some video game I recently played. I'm not sure which.... during the "select a save" menu... Nope, not Fire Emblem. Hm, I'm don't know. Eighty minutes until march off. I had better go eat, or eat later. Wish my phone weren't malfunctioning so I could order Jimmy Johns. They'd be here fast and I get my full belly. Oh well, vending machine microwaveable cheeseburger it is. The randomness annoys me though. Sometimes it taste alright, other times it taste like ass in a bun. I'll need energy drinks too since I woke at 0200. Yeah, ending this here...


----------



## Darkbloom (Aug 11, 2013)

I feel like people are coming up with quirky sounding thoughts for the sake of the thread rather than writing their true inner monologue.




Kipposhi said:


> Any monologue is strongest when I'm walking along the sidewalk bitching at every slow stupid thing in my way. Like how 1s have an inner critic? I have an inner asshole.


This.
Right now I'm uninspired.


----------



## Philathea (Feb 16, 2015)

Living dead said:


> I feel like people are coming up with quirky sounding thoughts for the sake of the thread rather than writing their true inner monologue.


I feel that way on a lot of the venting and confession threads too lol.


----------



## HellCat (Jan 17, 2013)

ZEN PENCILS » 144. The Artist-Troll War 1: HATRED BREEDS HATRED


----------



## Tetsuo Shima (Nov 24, 2014)

I don't expect this to be exactly 500 words because I don't feel like counting the words, but basically, here's what I'm thinking right now. Apparently, Samus Aran is trans now. Yes, the only woman in Super Smash Bros to be the main character of her own franchise is trans. And if you think that's a good thing, I guess you think that anyone who is assigned female at birth is incapable of being badass or a fighter or the main character of anything. Honestly, trans women get way more representation in video games than trans men. And yes, I agree that women are generally the weaker sex, and that is why I want to be a man, but some people can't help the way they are born, and for God's sake, you should include some important characters in video games that are assigned female at birth! And, I don't mean slutty pinup girls. Most video games these days do have an evenly gendered cast, but the main character is usually a straight cissexual white male or a blonde Japanese guy who every preteen playing the game is going to view as white, and the characters who are assigned female at birth are almost all sluts with maybe one transgender man who conveniently has the flattest chest. Well, I happen to have a huge chest, and I can't help it. This reminds me of every harem anime ever where there is literally only one cis male character: a boring everyday guy who isn't even badass because gone are the days of anime like Akira and Death Note where male characters had actual archetypes other than "boring everyday guy with at least one really cool girlfriend". I would list more examples, but those are literally the only seinen animes I can think of that are like that. Anyways, the token male has a bunch of girlfriends, some with larger chests than others, and then there eventually comes the episode where another guy tries to steal one of the main character's girlfriends, but then he turns out to be trans with a _conveniently_ flat chest even though all of the cis female characters have conveniently huge chests. (See: Yesterday's episode of Monster Musume.) Well, it doesn't work like that in real life. People aren't just born with what they want, and I would love to see a video game or anime with a character who has a huge chest and actually hates it and gets depressed over it and pities (her/him)self for it because finally, I would have something to relate to.


----------



## fawning (May 31, 2015)

here's a great wishy-washy self-pitying pile of sx-first gush below:


* *




I was okay and going to bed but I decided to play guitar for a bit and tried to play those songs again and now I feel sad. I wish I could write songs about something other than the sadness in my life because if I could maybe I would practice more often, but right now they take me to a lonely, heartbroken place that’s just flickering for me. 

I played that one cover over and over and I remember sitting outside the club that night just crying onto her for the first time I had ever done that with someone and I told her it was this song that was prophetic, I used to think it was just about their relationship but it came true, and it just kept coming true. She hushed me quiet and to this day I still wish she’d listened to the song with me. When I left him the first time I put the song on the end of the mixtape I gave him but at the last moment I got on his computer and deleted it because it was too cruel. 

I forgot how it ended until I was practicing just now, it tells me the love I thought I saw was fake anyway and I should have listened. I should have listened. I know I’m fucking crazy to think some English boys twenty years ago knew what would happen to me but it feels like it’s all come true. Sometimes the world can come in cycles like that.

I am so anxious about this other boy. I am fond of him and his expression of fondness towards me on Friday really lifted me up a bit, but now I hear from his best friend he is sleeping with several people I am downhearted about his intentions towards me. I can’t do casual again. I am terrified of telling someone that but I can’t go through the pain again. My emotions are all over the place lately. I’m not looking forward to my psych appointment to talk about this, but maybe I am. 

I wish I could just show someone how I feel about this song. I hope my song says it too. I wish I was asleep. I wish I trusted people, or that people were trustworthy, but they’re not. God, I don’t want to go through it all over again but I don’t trust this boy. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust someone with my body and friendship again. I’m so scared of being manipulated into it with “if you just relax you’ll get over it” when it always hurts so much each time. I’m so sick of being lied to. Why can’t it just once not hurt. I’m so fucking lonely.

I used to hate this song now but I understand it now and I love it more. I’m wondering about taking up smoking. I don’t really care how long I live. It just goes on and on and on. But there’s no reason for me to do it, either.




500 words is a lot. I don't always self-pity as much as this, but the general person-based anxiety is pretty standard.


----------

