It's weird in a way to look at this and identify so strongly with it. It's weird to be just self-aware enough to see that one's own inner monologue is troublesome, but not to the extent that one might make an effort to modify it.
I wake up some days and feel... I'm not going to say "some kinda way." It's not that vague. Some days I know I'm just not really fit for human consumption. There was a meeting yesterday where my monologue went something like this:
Jesus, what absolutely strange eyebrows she is such a pretty woman but the eyebrows are a hot mess not quite Vulcan but no no it's like a scimitar is that a word it's not samovar you serve tea from that it's one of those "Hassan chop" swords like in Bugs Bunny with the guy in the turban chasing Bugs and Daffy around that sort of Hassan chop shit what are they talking about I have no clue fuck me I am such a fucking fraud what am I doing here where did they learn all this shit and where was I when oh crap can they tell I just totally spaced out maybe I looked deep in thought god this shit is so far over my head I should be home right now walking the dog or something maybe my only hope is writing a book okay throw in a comment here about that guy from the video so you look like you've done some homework and you're listening Christ that is pretty interesting do I know that guy at all or what damn this chick is kind of hot really I would totally... okay stop you fell asleep again did they just see that fuck me this is pointless I am such a fucking phony...
And so on.
And then more often than not I just want to go home and jerk off and pass out.
But that's just at work. It goes hyper drive on dates... or did anyway, when I dated.