Conversations with the Old Lady of My Brain #1

“Oh darling, I envy sleepwalkers and sleep talkers dearly”, she mused.

“Why on earth would you do that?” I laugh.

“Well, dear, they live their dreams! How deliciously reckless it would be to perform the subconscious!” she exclaims with true longing.

“What if it’s a nightmare instead?” I counter. 

“Dear, if it’s frightening, then it’s either a crazy dream or a horrible nightmare, and I suppose the latter isn’t a delicious feeling, now is it? No, it becomes deliciously reckless when you are in somewhat control of the perception! Bitter recklessness is living a nightmare, when performing the subconscious becomes spiteful, hateful even.” 

She takes a break, thinking for a moment.

“Listen to me, love. Live like the reckless when life is delicious, even when it somehow tastes bitter. Trust me, my dear, bitter recklessness gives you wrinkles, and living deliciously demands smile lines, not worry wrinkles.” She takes a dramatic inward breath, obviously completing her small speech.

“So, live beautifully, recklessly, deliciously? Which one?” I say, confused.

“All of them! All of them indeed, darling, so you end up like me!” she cries with a smile.