Someone I thought I'd be growing old together with once told me they have no voices in their head. Nothing talks to them in their sanctum santorum. Not their partner, not their own self, not the murder mystery characters we loved, not the expired chocolate carried to their bed by helpful ant colonies. Nothing. No one.
Since that fateful day I've been dissociatively spreading public awareness about this no-voice phenomenon. But unfortunately for propriety and this blog, I have many voices in my head.
On the day this information broke my brain, I'd had a very painful treatment done to a painful part of my body. But an entire tube of lidocaine made no difference knowing I love someone whose cerebral home has silence, not their mom.
I discovered that their thought to speech ratio is: Thought arrival ---> thought said out loud.
My thought to speech ratio is: Thought thinking of arrival ---> thought trying to get into Airport Lounge without a credit card ---> thought failing despite overconfident flirting with the concierge ---> thought getting itself a drink it cannot afford ----> thought missing flight ----> thought being awoken by airport staff ----> thought said out loud.
I am deeply threatened by the existence of people without second person birds talking to them in their heads.
I like birds, even in second person. But mine learnt long ago to unionise. This is why I live with a cat. So he can murder them in my sleep.
I imagine people without second person birds achieve things. Like, being alive very efficiently. Getting stuff done. They can do it!... and some other book titles.
I saw it with my friend. They were extraordinary at self-belief in the sense that they didn't believe there was a self. I imagine Buddhists constantly being proud of them. Someone at a thing I'm sitting at asked how to write without the fear of being perceived. It was me.
The answer is a person without second person birds.
If I didn't have a bird processor in my brain, would I be great at life and life-ing? Would I get a credit card? Would I also have become a book title?
As my favourite Eels song says, "If you're small and on a search, I've got a feeder for you to perch on."