I’ve got a few women I’ve leased my mind out to. Over the years they sort of became family. I don’t know who the most dominant one is, but I do know their opinions influence me greatly.
I’d like to introduce you to Passion fruit, Dragon fruit and Onion.
Passion fruit is just your regular social, happy go lucky, tasty, mixes with anything kinda girl. She’s adventurous and hates conflict. She loves being put to work and gives work her all.
Onion is complicated, she’s got issues and hasn’t been able to peel of all her layers. You see, once she figures it out, she’s afraid that without her layers, she’ll be scattered into a million pieces, she cries a lot every time a layer is shed.
Dragon fruit is a dangerous kind sort. She’s really attractive and has a colourful outer personality, but when you get her to open up it is black and white and kinda seedy.
Over the years, my brain started behaving like a food processor. As I grew up, the conversations between these women became more complex. The more I thought, the faster the blades of my processor would move. Now the three women exist in my mind in a semi sorbet sort of way. I couldn’t tell one apart from the other.
Weird right? I don’t get it either.
I could be having the happiest conversation with parts of passion fruit but from no where at all, a sliver of dragon fruit comes my way, seeding my brain with anger. Onion, not wanting to be left out brings out the tears.
And the problem is, I grew up with these women in my head, whispering into my mind. I do not know a life without them, nor understood when their occasional banter turned into constant chatter. As individual entities they’re great but blended together they make my mind worse than the latest trending organic health drink.
Although I am afraid of change, I thought I could lease my mind to new people.
Sometimes I let other women come to check the place out, they like it at first, they start having great conversations with me, enticing me with an adrenaline rush, but they meet the puree they’d be sharing a house space with and either flee or blend into the mixture like a forgotten one night stand.
For every time a friend said, “you think too much Ritika, you should stop”, I feel like sticking their head into my mental blender and asking them – HOW?
But the answer is really simple. Stop hoarding. Stop hoarding memories and take baby steps while pressing the delete button on your mind. Thinking is an addiction of its own kind. Think too little, you live a reckless life. Think too much, you don’t live a life.
Not everyone is going to understand you and not everyone is going to have the patience to be with you through an intangible problem. And that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. In order to clean a blender you need to get into its nooks and crannies to remove even the smallest bumps, to make space for new lumps. In the end, it’s going to be a smoothie.
Make peace with the ingredients of your mind, discard the ones well past their expiry date and and make a food platter out of the ones in there, making sure they co-exist.
How is that for “food for thought.”
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