How would you describe the inside of your mind?

Right now. It’s like you’ve taken a gooey ball of many colors and smashed the shit out of it with your fist.

Like Liberace’s living room… so well appointed!! XD

A dungeon waiting for a victim…

Like a jar of pickles, but funny.

Best to let sleeping dogs lie….

My mind is a dark place—not because I’m depressed (although I have been), but because it is the kind of dark you find deep in the bowels of a furnace. You feel the heat long before you can see its glow. Few dare to venture in. There are lots of places where the floor simply caves in and you find yourself going out where you had, a minute ago, been going in.

There are many mysterious places in my mind. All kinds of operations go on in those places, but I can barely see them, myself. I am not free to go where I want, either.

The ground rolls and winds, and never stays still. Passageways suddenly constrict or open up into vast spaces. Those spaces contain a soaring sense of excitement and peace. You’re lucky if you find one. They last for a few moments, only.

There are sounds all the time. You hear humming, ratcheting, banging, scratching and much more wherever you go. Sometimes these noises are loud, and other times they seem far away, but you never get to see what is making them.

It smells somewhat damp and like iron. In fact, you can taste that metallic taste when you breath the air in there. It might have something to do with blood, but it might be something else altogether. However it does not smell sulfury, as one might expect with all those fires and dins in the background. It smells green. Like growing things. Like a swamp. Yet once again, the smell creates an expectation of a scene that one never actually finds.

Over all of that lies a kind of feeling that could creep you out. It’s an ominous, tense barely leashed energy that seems like it could equally lead to the birth of incredible creativity—with love and compassion—or to a kind of manic sexuality that would shake you up like a paint can shaker.

Like I said, best to let sleeping dogs lie. I do my best to stay out of there.

Lately its looked a little something like this.

@wundayatta ”...Best to let sleeping dogs lie…” Really? I’ll have to attach a polygraph to my dog the next time he sleeps to see if that’s a true statement :-p

Mine is like a town with abandoned buildings full of dead people, the ground is made of metal and there are rusted bridges spawning rivers of diseased blood. It’s dark everywhere, and if you come in here, bring a flashlight, a shotgun and mind your head.

Also, pillows! Soft! ^^

I think
I think too much.
For what do I get?
A wind in my ear
That whistles regret.
A feeling of failing
And silently spiraling home
To that womb of infinity
Whence I’ve come.

I’m all smiles right now, my mind is in a great easy place, add a bit of wine and some chocolate, um hmm…it’s good. lol

Like Michigan Avenue at rush hour…thankfully not all the time but darn near close to it!!

THE ABYSS!

Like a giant hyperactive pinball machine. Different bumpers and bells for each tiny thing I think of, and me, the ball that is always bouncing from one to another. Full of flashing light and chaos. It’s also a bit like a labyrinth, one I can never seem to navigate my way out of. There is always a conversation happening in there, and music in the background. It’s just… noisy in there. This is why I can’t sleep until I can do nothing but sleep… my mind never shuts up!

@augustlan : Maybe your bright noisy mind and my bright noisy mind could go away for a weekend together and give us a break…mine is so busy I’d love get a break from it now and then!

@JilltheTooth Sounds good to me!

Like a child wearing rose coloured spectacles permanently living christmas eve over & over &......... Throw in a touch of sexual fantasy & Bob’s your uncle….....or is it Trevor? I dunno, i’m no good with names :¬)

This is a very fun question. I think you’re on to something in your description. The mind manifests itself through the body because the two are networked and so far inseparable.

My mind is like the core of the improbability drive (Douglas Adams reference). Every comparison that can be made will. Every statistic that can be calculated will. Every pattern that has any significance given previous knowing or not – will be detected. Any repeating pattern will be detected with its distinct similarities and differences noted. All the above provided infinity was a given – but it’s not. Though it’ll try to make all the comparisons possible until its time runs out.

On another level, but still in the same housing it is a place where biological predispositions come knocking on the door, every day – every few hours – depending. “Needs”, urges – to take care of a body grown in a place different from what we’ve built around us.

It’s a meeting place for environmental suggestions. Some of which come crashing against predispositions from mother nature – an inevitable fight with most parent-child relationships.

This mind does not really know where it begins, and where other minds end. It’s all a jumble – savoring thoughts from other minds existed thousands of years ago. It is a crowded space, folder over itself to fit as much as possible in that which the body is programmed to house. It knows that it could exist in its own, and invent new patterns or detect them anew, but it recognizes that it hasn’t – that it relies on a huge body of previous work. Because those previous minds were also not immortal. This mind wants to leave something behind for new ones to build on.

Penguins in an office building sorting through files.

my mind is more of just a big cluttered mess (Like my room haha.) of thoughts…going incredibly fast…only to slow down when I am depressed and not even then does is slow down completely.