These walls are talking.

If walls could talk…

That’s a riot.

IF.

Ha!

We talk all the time. We talk about your most embarrassing moments, your inspirational high points, your hopes and dreams. We talk.

You can hear us. We’re in your head. That voice? That’s us. We are the walls of your mind.

Even as you read this, the walls of your mind are chatting back.

Yeah, they’re saying, You can hear us talk.

A tangent of memories, experiences, and longings all swirl within. Walls closing in and pushing out, breathing words.

Can other people hear what I hear? Am I crazy? Speaking of crazy, remember Susan? She had alabaster skin and perfect tits crowned with cream puff peaks! I wonder if she’s still mad at me. Should I call her? Naw, she hates me. But man, she was fine! Crazy, but fine. Great. Now I’m horny. And hungry. I’m a beast. I just wanna eat and fuck. Oh crap, the boss! Ok, is fuel an operating expense? Yes. Ok, it goes in this column. Man, I am hungry.

Every instant of your life is ingrained in the surface of your mental walls, just waiting for their time to chime in. It doesn’t take much. A familiar song, a whiff of perfume, maybe a word you hear brings up a joke. It’s never ending.

There are people who peacefully coexist with their internal dialog. Their walls are free to express their content without restraint. The walls are one with the being that houses them.

Some people try to shush us. They shoot chemicals into their veins or pour poison down their throats. It’s a temporary reprieve that alters the speech but never quells the voice.

Most people don’t understand the voices. They attribute them to GOD or Satan, or some other powerful Being, deigning to drive them along their preordained destiny. When the walls spout goodness, it’s GOD delivering a sermon. When the thoughts are dark and dank, Satan is dancing with fire in his eyes. And the walls reverberate with recrimination and praise.

Can you believe there are doctors who think the solution is to cut portions of us out of your head? How stupid is that? We’ll still talk, we just won’t make any sense. When those walls talk, nobody should listen. It’s just nonsense.

If walls could talk.

What else do we do but talk?

Man, I can’t get Susan out of my head! Tonight I’m going to Harry’s on Boardwalk and I’m going to hook up with somebody to get her gone.

Walls talking, walls walking, walls building walls.

When did I get so fat? Maybe I should stay home and masturbate. Who wants to hook up with an accounting dork. Fuck it. I’ll watch a movie and get drunk.

Sometimes the walls within argue with one another. An internal debate where imaginary walls are used as sounding boards for a vexing problem.

I need a better job. Maybe I can get a promotion? Yeah. I’d go into John’s office and I’d lay it on the line. I want a promotion, I’d say. John would say, yeah you work hard, you deserve a raise. Bullshit. John would never say that. He’d say something like, what have you done to deserve a raise? I’d smugly tell him about the time I saved the company beaucoup bucks by trimming the logistics paperwork and John would say something smart ass like, yeah, what have you done recently? I’d slam my hand on his desk and tell him like it is! Yeah. John would be so surprised he’d have to give me the damn promotion.

These walls will always talk.

Sometimes you listen, sometimes you argue, sometimes you try to drown us out, but talk these walls will do.

There ain’t no IF about it.