A coaxial hinge binds my conscious and subconscious. The linkage extends across my neural webbing, and the cogitations entangled in the matter of the latter harbor musings which may never be mulled over in the former. I ride my synaptic roller coaster, watching the birth and death of many thoughts, often in the blink of an eye. I can't touch them when they expire--I can't even remember them. Too many empty shells now sit in my chamber of intuition; they are husks awaiting some creative awakening. I slide my hand across their glossy surfaces. They were beautiful once, but now they lie in dormancy. The shells sometimes birth little aliens, who skitter about and gnaw on my cortex. I squish them between my analytical fingers, and toss them into the void. The void, the void, the void. How endless and infinite it is. And my little brain cannot perceive it; no human can. It's there, but it defines nothing. It is nothing. I'm not sure what this thread is about, but feel free to interject.
Im not smart enough to understand this yet, though i am getting there.. EDIT: i kind of understand it but not fully, though i may be wrong
The human mind and body collaborating together to form you, what you think about, how you act, your genome, etc. You may have been writing in an analogy of normal thought, but the hyperbole "synaptic roller coaster" made me think you wrote this on a psychedelic; Your mind is racing. With each new thought the previous is forgotten and most are never to be remembered again. They exist now as beginnings to creative/abstract/imaginative/deep thoughts, but will never expand to what they once were. Maybe one day the thoughts will awake again, some as if from nowhere. The aliens are the deformed thoughts of the original, you realize this and throw the thought into the void, which is nothingness, empty thought. I formally thought you meant the aliens were the messengers between synapse's biologically, and thought you were squishing one of the cells collaborating to be you. Sending it, itself into death/nothingness, which you too will one day encounter from the death of the workers in your own micro-universe. Well, that's my interpretation anyway.
Pretty spot on my good sir But my main concern is why do these thoughts die? Why can we not build upon them? Our mental capacity for redefinition, for expansion, is often so limited, we're tied to the societal pressures of working hard, earning money, breeding. Where do the brilliant thoughts go, the ones outside of this realm of social progress? They flash across every mind, only to be forgotten, never nurtured, because they're not worth the time to express.
Because the world sees our deepest hopes and dreams, our greatest ambition as a pointless conquest. It's like when we were kids we really thought the sky was the limit. That we could do any job, and anything we put our hearts to. But "reality" also known as the objective voice of senselessness AKA television, tired old congressional dinosaurs, and your teachers want us to think that reality has rules and limitations. That we cannot succeed because we are not apt enough to do so. And then, either consciously or unconsciously, we give up. We give into the "no" and the "never" and start to believe that our dreams are unreachable. That only the day to day monotony of life is the only way to get ahead, and the only way to be accepted by society. We roll around the grime of our lives, of our smashed hopes and dreams and wallow in the sludge that once was a beautiful aspiration. We as a human race must learn to ignore the fallacious nature of the voice of limitations and dead ends, and focus on what matters most. What we see as the glimmer of hope. A new idea fresh in the mind of a progressive thinker.