The brain is an incredible thing. It can conjure up the most fantastic of images that leave one breathless in excitement, or trembling in terror. Some day, I hope to fully understand what makes the Mind do what it does to the Brain and why it still cares so fully for the subconscious, despite it's rather unappealing nature.
Part The Second: The Madness
For three long years, the Mind had led a comfortable life, lounging in it's theatre of ethereal light, doting upon it's beautiful ball of flames and basking in the promise of a resplendent future. The Mind was at ease, until that fatal day, upon which the Mind had become distracted and had tainted the Subconscious, transforming it into a coral-coloured ball of porous rubber.
A portion of the Subconscious had been turned to stone and had cracked open, spilling fragments of nightmarish images into the grand theatre. The beauty slowly began to change, to warp, to mutate. This once stunning location had turned into a boiler room with mesh on the floors, glowing in evil red and hissing as steam rose from unidentifiable places and sparks crackled from broken wires. The Subconscious itself had begun to moan and growl, hungry for any conscious input that would ease the great discomfort it felt.
The Mind slowly succumbed to the grief its mistake had caused. Such potential, such beauty, had been destroyed by one tiny mistake. It had been but one slip of the wrist, an accidental toss in the wrong direction. The Mind would not allow itself to remember the destruction. In its misery, it began to lose interest in its job, its raison d'être. It had nothing left but to sit and feed whatever came through the Brain into the bloated, sweating monster of a Subconscious... but continuing with its job took its toll on the Mind's sanity.
It was not long before the Mind had given in. Barely a year passed before the Mind had shed its opulence and had donned a top hat, a cane and a pair of boxers with bright yellow ducklings speckled all over them. The Mind began to settle into its new home, despite the fact that the very sight of the Subconscious made it want to put one of the sparking wires in its mouth and give the electricity a nice French kiss.
The Mind soon accepted the change in its circumstance. The more it accepted it, in fact, the more mad it seemed to become. It had taken — as of the fifth year — to singing "It's Raining Men" whilst doing a modified version of the dance from "Singing In The Rain", prancing across the power room beneath the Subconscious with the whimsy and accuracy of a crawling toddler. On good days, it would strip of the duckling-spotted underwear and pirouette through the boiler room wearing a tinfoil hat, whispering to the Subconscious that the mad men would not find it. The Subconscious would groan for more input.
The Mind had to face the fact that it would have to leave the life it had so adored and live with its own mistake until the Brain died. The Brain found this to be a highly disagreeable concept, for the Mind was one of a small attention-span and a low tolerance for repetitive activity. Therefore, it took it upon itself to completely destroy the Brain's life.
It was then that the Mind realised how much fun it could really have...
(Part Three: Duckling-Spotted Underwear — coming soon)
(c) 2014 Alexandra Odendaal
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