13:53, 10 Aug 2015
My big fat brain
Let’s take a brief look at the inside of my brain,
Maybe you will find an answer to what's sending me insane,
Brain scan images show no liaisons, just a F***ing massive stain,
"No wonder this young lady's been in so much turmoil and pain"
The frontal lobes, the largest area of the brain, they patrol,
Muscle movement and conscious though, they control,
Attention, language, solutions and understanding provide a goal,
Determining personality and the basis of your soul,
"Area 1 over here, has been severely affected,
In fact it looks like it’s actually been totally disconnected,
All bridges burned out the A1 tunnel is shut,
A1 will now stand all alone, all ties have been cut.
Moving on, A2 houses episodic memories of any kind at all,
My A2 is a layered room, with memory piles big and small,
90 percent of the memories are stored correctly, in cabinets on the wall,
There’s never a peep outta them, and hierarchy never has to call.
But that 10 percent over there just won’t do as their told,
There impulsive and reckless blowing between hot and cold,
They cause all of the trouble and never seem to get old,
There hiding undetectable and then brassy and bold.
It’s messed up in here let’s move onto A3,
A small area of the brain housing short term memory,
It’s not as organised as A2 but it’s smaller as well,
The cabinets keep on jamming as if on regrets it does dwell.
A4 houses memories, procedural in nature,
The place that tells you when processes mean danger,
Normal brain function indicates sooner rather than later,
My A4 is patchy, its threshold seems to be greater.
A5 is so important, housing semantic memories or knowledge,
It stands to reason that A5 can be improved by attending a college,
My A5 has no regularity, picking at random what to acknowledge,
It’s full to the brim with information but can’t be bothered with the haulage.
A6 is the section where recognition takes place,
Its remarkable normal, everything’s in its own space.
On to B1 the control centre for emotional response,
There seems to be a blockage, Area B1 seems non-chalance,
Every once in a while the barriers may lift,
Resulting in crazy erratic behaviour as responses rapidly shift.
B1 is more damaged than anywhere else,
There’s no order or regularity and no sign of a shelf,
These receptors must be faulty, this is bad for your health,
There’s no instruction manual or quick fix even with wealth.
B2 could be classified as the "social brain"
Processing social information an understanding when people are the same,
This B2 needs updating with norms, expectations and a coherent behavioural chain,
If not the same kind of mistakes will happen again and again.
B3 would technically be called the occipital lobe,
Where our eyes send information, as we look around the globe,
Encoding colour and movement, as the eyes continue to probe,
Any damage in this sector would alter our visual strobe.
Again this areas damaged but it hard to find the source,
There’s no clear cut explanation as to b3s driving force,
It’s irreparable, simply strayed too far off- course,
Inseperatable from neighbouring B2, now they’re going through divorce.
13:52, 10 Aug 2015
A LETTER TO MYSELF
Mate i swear, you don’t yet understand,
Everything will break that you touch with your hand,
Events will be minor but this head of ours will make it grand,
Yet somehow on your feet you will always seem to land.
My advice to you is just to take it day by day,
There’s no chance you can predict the s**t that gets in the way,
Stand by your beliefs and don’t be scared to have your say,
For all the wrongs you carry out, one day you’ll have to pay.
The vision of a rollercoaster existence is reality to us,
You will never want the drama or purposely ask for the fuss,
But your own insane behaviour will leave you nobody to trust,
And you better get used to being looked at with disgust.
There will be some days when your feet don’t touch the ground,
The harder you try to gain clarity the more the boundaries shift around,
You’ll agree to far too much every day and constantly feel your heart pound,
Don’t be fooled into thinking it will be a quiet night, when you have a few people round.
Honestly mate don’t ever try to work yourselves out,
For whatever reason, this is it, this is what were about,
A heart of gold, blinkered eyes and a history full of doubt,
Too many patchy incomplete memories resulting from the latest blowout.
Embrace the intense emotions, they prove you think with your heart
Try and suppress the negative side or at least recognise if it should start,
If you find it helpful to regulate the mind, put everything down on a chart,
You have more control than you think you do when normality falls apart.
Just when you think things couldn’t get any worse,
That moment, that second, seems to re-trigger the curse,
Before you know it you’re weak and frail again having to rely on a nurse,
All the qualities that make you, you, have seemed to just disperse.
You will be back though, sooner than you think,
As long as you remember, we can’t fix this with a drink,
Open up that bottle and our ship will continue to sink,
There’s only so many times you can come back from the brink.
What else can I really say, I’ve no more advice to give,
Play the best hand with these cards we been dealt, an make sure your life you remember to live.