I swear this has nothing to do with Kendrick’s verse.
As long as I can remember, I’ve had this conflict within me. Thoughts have flown through my mind, most of which I’ve had no control over.
The brain is a fascinating subject. It is the reason why we are who are; how we express ourselves, how we process information, how we remember, how we think. Keep in mind, the brain actually named itself ‘the brain’. Mind fuck? Yeah. My brain just masturbated.
I set out to write this post without knowing exactly what I needed to write about.
I just knew i needed to write.
Allow me to indulge myself in this time of need. And if you follow, good. If you’ve already considered pressing that little X. I won’t, or can’t, stop you.
Reality is, the only thing I can truly control are my own actions. Not even my thoughts. My brain fires its synapses at such a rapid rate that all I can truly do is attempt to grasp what these flying invisible words are attempting to tell. Attempt to make sense of them. What’s the story?
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So you do realize everybody’s got em right?
In the world we live in, from the beginning of time, insecurities existed. We may not have necessarily been able to quantify or explain them, with language developing through the years, but do you honestly think our caveman ancestors weren’t stressed out? Not knowing when their next meals are? Which predator is out to get them? What the fuck was that noise they heard?! Survival of the fittest. Survival of the most paranoid.
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the Apartment 6 Podcast archive 