I sometimes wish I could turn off my brain. Everything I hear, do, or say has to be turned into semantics for my own imagination. I am never out of control, only trying to live in the moment. I wish I could master the concept that George Orwell identifies in his novel 1984: “consciously to induce unconsciousness, and then, once again, to become unconscious of the act of hypnosis you just performed.” (Orwell, 1984, pg. 34)

I want to turn off my mind and forget it was ever turned on in the first place, in order to trick myself into believing I am the spontaneous girl I try to be. However, I feel that that would be impossible. My mind is too alive to ever willingly change to a state of dull stupidity unless acted upon by an external force. It is my strongest asset and one of my strongest weaknesses. I can’t partake in the careless enjoyment of life like my siblings or friends, because even while in a state of submission I am constantly aware of the submission itself. My emotions and actions are merely more semiotics for my mind to dissect from a sort of mental viewing screen.

Even as I write this I am partially aware of the craziness of my writing and the intensity of my thoughts. I can’t take anything at surface value. I have to go beyond. No song, word, painting, or poem can I just admire without gleaning some meaning from. I cannot pray without questioning the validity and sincerity of the prayers themselves. When I’m happy, I’m also in awe of the happiness itself. While this trait gives me an edge, a level of sophistication and intelligence that succeeds my peers and neighbors, I repeatedly wish I could bounce around with sheer stupidity. Just doing things for the sake of doing things and living for the sake of living.     

*Partially inspired by the novel 1984 by George Orwell. For more information on the concept of unconsciousness mentioned, review pg. 34, 1984, by George Orwell.