Dumber

I can tell. I feel dumber than before. I know something's not right. I can't understand what I read. I can't produce that clever things I always did. My brain cells are dissapearing one by one, by the millions a day. My brain shrinks back to the size of a lizzard's brain. I lack of neurotransmitters. Everything is shutting down. I can't stop it. I feel ashamed for not realizing this before. But it's understandable: I couldn't figure it out before because it was so subtle.

I think it started eating the dumber neurons. I tend to think that there are more important neurons than others, like the ones that make me work against the ones that send me straight to the next bar to drink a beer. Neurons like the latter ones went down first. I stopped doing that kind of things, but it didn't make me smarter. I just stopped doing dumb, silly, unimportant things. Luckily, that didn't include every-day activities, like eating and such.

Now those are gone, so the smarter ones started to go too. Being gone. Going away, down some drain maybe. I'm left with nothing. I'm right at nothing. I can still think, but that will be gone soon. I can't talk, I can't write.

I can follow music. I started to cling on music. It's the last thing I can relate too. I stay all day, besides the radio, listening, enjoying, in my way, the music. I feel happy there. My friends come over to talk to me, as if I were in some hospital, enduring some treatment. Like I were in a deep coma. I just stare at them, hear the sounds they make, talking to me, and nod from time to time. Yes, I understand all that. Yes, I'm glad you came over. But I can't say that. I just nod and hope they get the message. Then I turn back to my radio.

Today is cloudy. The grey is every where. The winter is not that crude, but that feeling, that sensation that everything is slower, sader, uglier, dumber. The clouds cover the city like a huge hand, just waiting to grab the souls of the unaware. I'm aware, but I think I'm dumb enough to be caught.

Yes, that's my salvation, to be caught and taken away, to the same place my neurons went. I will recover them, somehow put them back to were they belong, in my brain, kindly, one by one. And when every one is back in its place, I will be smart enough to find a way to return here and retake the path of my life. Or maybe...

Maybe the clouds will break apart, and the sunshine, or the moonlight will came through, and I'll run to that patch of light, and be cured by that light. Everything will be normal again, and I will be better, and will do everything I handn't done since... And spend my brain again, spilling it in my job, my friends, my activities, faster, faster, and die soon, but happy with the sensation of having done everything I should have done and more.

But that day is not today. Today I'll just sit here, by the radio, listening to music. I'll wait here, holding all my energies for that day. Is the smartest thing I can think of doing right now.