[INT; Alt’s Brain. Things have definitely improved since our last visit. Papers have been filed, cabinets are slowly being refilled. The skeleton staff of GUILT and REMORSE are beginning to make some inroads, revealing lavender walls and a dark blue carpet. GOOD and EVIL have their own separate desks, on which are piled roughly even stacks of folders, behind which is a whiteboard with a series of To Do Tasks marked in red and black.

GOOD returns from the coffee machine with two mugs, placing one on her desk before taking the other to BAD, when she stops, face creasing in confusion… ]

GOOD: How many sugars did you say again?

BAD: I’m going to write this on a Post It and staple it to your jacket. Every day is the same: I say two, you repeat it after me, then off you go and forget!

GOOD: I *think* there’s two in there, but the best way is for you to drink it and let me know –

BAD: It’s BLACK COFFEE woman, I can’t drink that now, it’s far too hot!

[DOUBT suddenly materialises between them, dressed only in underpants and a reindeer headband.]

DOUBT: There’s no sugar, you were distracted by Beauty at the water-cooler again, YOU FAIL!

[As quickly as he appeared, DOUBT is gone, leaving the faint whiff of Stilton in his wake. With a heavy sigh, GOOD trudges back to the machine. BAD watches her with a satisfied smile. These shortcomings were always her undoing…]


I tried yesterday to explain what is like when I experience a mental overload. Then it occurred to me that poetry might be quite useful as a descriptor in this situation. This poem’s existed on the hard drive for a while, but never with a confidence to use as explanation. The time has come.

This is my brain, folks. It’ll be here all week.


Doubt

Disparate threads, basic command
thwarted, abortive path untied
slack flax unwoven, memories
playback fast freeze instruction,
coil induction feedback loop
return track, switch back, look out
reload to starting point.

Every action, reproduction
remember how, order direction
exhaustion, normal purpose
fatigue makes it worse, rehearse
varied needs, cover all, enthral
then overload, as brain explodes.
Noise, sound, panic compounds.

Sit, breathe, withdraw, ignore
wait, noise abates with time
blissful calm, relief morphs doubt
I’ll never find my way back out.
To dream, one day, far away
dissonance dim history.
Then sleep, escape myself.