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Personal Note:

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Poem

I feel like my brain is always plotting in secret
As though I don't know
Like, it has a whiteboard up somewhere
 in a vortex like corner, where it knows I can't go. Scheduling meetings without sending me an invitation to respond yes or no
They take place when my brain thinks I'm not paying attention, but I know.
It's planning my demise, solo. It's been doing so, For quite a bit of time.
I recognize this,
 as I map out the blueprints it has created with my mind
It's diabolical the lengths in which I am willing to go 
to help myself find 
more reasons to put myself down
Time after time
To reassure my mind that 
I'm going to fail because I do all the time
At least to me in my mind
It's crazy
How this brain sometimes does not feel like mine
I try and control it
But it goes into auto pilot and 
I am no longer the pilot flying, 
80-90% of the time 
we are falling
Don't worry, I'm always fine
Catch myself playing a role 
That was designed by me but isn't mine
It's a past character I have no use for 
It was useful during a certain time
But these positions my brain continues to assign are no longer roles that suit me in this state of mind
These brains we have
Are weapons 
forged over time
We were not born defenseless 
We have been scheming and plotting since we left the womb and assumed life outside
Our brains have the power to override information that has no space in this current time
But we have to be aware in the moment it is happening in that very time.
How the heck can I catch my brain slip
When I am constantly 5 steps behind 
You can't, and that's what I learned 
You literally have to drop in on meetings and share new words 
Stop raising your hand,
it's time to take your damn turn
Send a memo out to the crew
We have 
Extended the renovation time
An internal renovation,
For you.

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