Words Only Scratch the Surface

Ok, so I'll admit it. I have an extraordinarily overly active imagination. I dream things out of nothing & I dramatize the ordinary to give it a bit of flair. It's not intentional. It's not premeditated. It just comes out of my mouth & there it is, more shocking than before. It does not apply to all aspects of life. My writing, for example, tends to get to the core of me, but on a day to day basis, you never know what's going to come out of my mouth. I blame it on my lack of a "nothing box." My mind constantly connects the dots & loops everything together into a big mass of interconnected knowledge. Press the trigger (or find one "cup hook" as my developmentally appropriate practices teacher would say), and all the gumballs fall out of the candy machine, or in other words - I'm losing my marbles. Haha, just kidding. I just mean to say that if, for example, you say the word "monkey" I instantly relate it to 20 different things that to anyone else are seemingly unrelated. Apparently there's this feature in the brain called the corpus callosum which is, essentially, the thing that connects the left & right brain. This connector is apparently larger in women than men, larger in musicians than non-musicians, and larger in left-handed people than right-handed people. Seeing as how I am female, a musician, and left-handed, I pretty much must have the largest corpus callosum imaginable, which would account for alot. Sometimes I wish I could just shut my brain off & vegetate for a while like the rest of humankind seems fully equipped to do, but I could stare at a wall & turn it into an interesting conversation within my head (or, ya know, out loud because I never quite mastered private speech). Even in sleep, my dreams are filled with the vivid manifestations of my ridiculously intricate thought patterns. Notice I said intricate, not necessarily intelligent. I have a feeling that if anyone were able to probe my psyche & dissect the theories which fill it to capacity, they would come out very dizzy, if at all. They might, in fact, get stuck wading through a neck deep concoction of imagined mush & drown in the weight of motion like Atreyu's horse, Artax. But, what indeed was my point with all of this? Well, I'm not quite sure I remember anymore.