Sometimes an inner monologue isn’t just a single patronizing voice, but a cacophony of interconnected intuitions that spawn action and art ex nihilo in ways that are ineffable.
No? Just me? Nevermind, I’ll be over there.
Sometimes an inner monologue isn’t just a single patronizing voice, but a cacophony of interconnected intuitions that spawn action and art ex nihilo in ways that are ineffable.
No? Just me? Nevermind, I’ll be over there.
Sometimes my inner monologs have to shout over my inner radio station. Which is now playing “Where is My Mind” by The Pixies, on loop.
Lucky. Mine has been playing “Thong Song” by SisQó