Conversations With A Strange Mind: Dyslexia and Wordy Things

“I think we’re turning dyslexic.”

“I’m not sure it works that way. Kind of a ‘one or the other’ situation there.”

“Well, technically, that’s not true. You could become dyslexic after some kind of traumatic episode or head injury.”

“Ok, sure, but it’s not like being a werewolf. You can’t just turn dyslexic.”

“Seriously? All the actual medical conditions you could have picked and you went with werewolf?”

“I was illustrating a point!”

“Yeah, illustrating that maybe dyslexia isn’t our biggest concern.”

“So, have we had any head injuries lately?”

“How should I know? That’s exactly the kind of stuff that would be repressed by your psyche. Oh, that psyche. She can be a real b-“

“Then you’re not sure about it?”

“Nope, we could have had a head injury last week and forgotten about it. Maybe we’ve been having head injuries for the past year!”

“I think at some point, we’d notice.”

“Would we? What if I told you that you’ve just had a head injury right now?”

“Then you’d be lying.”

“But how can you be sure?”

“Because my head doesn’t hurt.”

“Does it not hurt, or has the sensation of pain merely been removed from your memory? Perhaps it’s been locked away in the deep recesses of your subconscious. Possibly by psyche. That b-“

“Ok, now my head hurts.”

“Aha! I knew it! Nice try, psyche!”

“That’s, wow…Why is it that you think we have dyslexia? Because of the typos?”

“Because of the increase in typos! How many times in the past few months have you found yourself going back to correct a word because the letters were all jumbled up?”

“Well, I have been typing more extensively of late, since I’ve been doing more writing. More writing means more chance of mistakes.”

“And that can only mean – dyslexia! Dun dun duuunnn!”

“Or it means that I just need to type a bit slower. Or maybe you need to think a bit slower.”

“You would like me to be slow?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean, not slow as in ‘duhhh’, but slow as in, uhhh…hmm..word….stuff…”

“Slow enough for you?”

“Duhhh…you know…not….meaning….thingy…stop…brain…”

“There, now isn’t that better?”

“Gahh, you know that’s not what I meant! Boy, being stupid feels weird.”

“Shouldn’t it feel stupid?”

You feel stupid.”

“Yes, I’d say I’m thinking slow enough now.”


Conversations With A Strange Mind: Hellos, How-Are-Yous, And Things Like That

“It’s Sunday!”

“Yep, sure is.”

“You know what that means!”

“It’s the last day of the weekend for most folks and the first day of the week here.”

“Well, yeah, and…”

“And it’s actually cloudy today, so there’s some solid irony going on.”

“What? Oh, yes, so there is…aaaannnnd…”

“And…I wonder what’s for lunch?”

“Sigh. And it’s when we introduce our new weekly bit!”

“Oh, you mean Conversations With A Strange Mind?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Ah, right. Welcome to Conversations With A Strange Mind, where – ”

“You’re welcoming me?”

“No, not you. The readers. I’m welcoming them by…talking…to you. Well that can’t be right. How do we introduce our bit if we’re only going to be talking to each other?”

“Through the use of natural dialogue, maybe? Like, ‘Hey, is it Sunday already? Boy, looks like we’ll be having Conversations With A Strange Mind today. The weekly bit where we post random thoughts in the form of a dialogue between you and me, aka your brain!'”

“That over-explained word salad is your idea of natural dialogue?”

“You’d prefer talking to an imaginary audience?”

“They’re not imaginary! They’re right…there, somewhere. I don’t know. We can figure that out later, I guess. First, let’s decide what we’re gonna talk about. What ideas do you have floating around in the ol’ brain juice?”

“Well, first of all, gross. Secondly, I dunno. Been kind of a regular week, hasn’t it? Just all so week-like.”

“Week-like seems like an apt but pointless description of a week.”

“Your face is pointless!”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Neither does your face.”


“Hah! Looks like your sarcasm blew up in your nonsensical face, didn’t it?”

“We really should stop sniping at each like this, you know. It just doesn’t look right, a man fighting with his own mind. Think of the deep existential and psychological despair it conveys, the madness that must gnaw away deep in the core of a man’s head for him to be in constant battle with his very thoughts.”

“You’re saying it makes you look insane in the membrane.”

“If it helps you get the point.”

“Well, they say membranous insanity is the worst kind of insanity.”

“Nobody says that.”

“Or maybe they do and you just don’t notice because you’re busy going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”

“I feel like you’re not taking this matter seriously.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re right. We should work together, in harmony and junk. Just a couple of chums hanging out harmoniously. Let’s hug it out, man.”

“Uh..hug it out?”

“Yeah, lay it on me, dude. Just a big ol’ hug. It’s all good.”

“People are wondering why I’ve got one arm wrapped around my head.”

“That’s cause it’s weird. You gotta hug with both arms, man!”

“I feel like that would hinder my typing ability and also raise further questions about my state of mind.”

“Don’t be such a baby. C’mere and give your brain a hug.”

“Words I never thought I’d hear.”

“That’s why you leave the thinking to me, old chum. That’s why you leave the thinking to me.”

“Yeah, this is definitely going to affect my typghkfldkdjhitilto4t9dls.v.;r;pwo3i”


“Hey guess what? It’s free writing day today!”

“It is?”

“Yeah! You can write about whatever you want! No prompts, no twists, just you, baby! Go for it!”

“Alright! Free writing! I can write about…write about…huh…write about what?”

“Well, I mean, surely there’s something you wanna talk about. Something you wanna throw out there for the good public to read.”

“Yeah! Course there is! It’s just…just..I don’t know what it is.”

“You don’t know?”


“Shouldn’t you know?”

“Shouldn’t you? You’re my brain, Start giving me ideas!”

“Oh, great. Once again, it’s up to me. I’ve gotta do everything around here, don’t I?”

“As a brain, isn’t that kind of your job?”

“Well maybe I need a break.”

“I think you’ve had enough breaks already.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve almost thrown away important papers or almost walked into doors because you weren’t paying attention?”

“Hey! I was thinking about important stuff.”

“Video games are important stuff??”

“No, you’re right. You should just stop buying them. It’s not like you’re really interested in them anyway.”

“What are you talking about? I love video games!”

“So you’d say they’re important to you.”


“Thought so.”

“Would you mind terribly if we got back on track? I still don’t have anything to write for my free writing piece.”

“Ok, ok, let’s think. Well, I’ll think. You just sit there. As always.”

“Oh for – ”

“I’ve got it! You could write about your failed romances!”


“Yeah, you could write about the various crushes you’ve had and the relationships that didn’t work out!

“Sure. That’s what people want to read. How much I suck at romance.”

‘Yeah, it’ll be great! You could talk about your awkwardness when it comes to flirting and how you’re kind of like a rom com heroine right now!”

“A rom com heroine? That’s just sad. I don’t wanna be a rom com heroine! I wanna be a rom com hero. You know what? Screw rom coms! I wanna be the action hero who saves the day and gets the girl!”

“Saves the day from what? Long commutes? Kitchen disasters?”

“It’s a fantasy. We can invent something for the hero to stop.”

“That’s it! Why don’t you write a fiction piece? People love those. Tell em a story!”

“Yeah, ok. I can do that. A story. But what story?”

“Hmm…I dunno. You could..ahh..oh, I’ve got it! I’ve got the perfect story! Oooh, this is gonna be so good! They’ll love it!”

“Awesome! So what’s the story?”

“Alright, well, it’s about this boy called Jack. He’s really lazy and isn’t much help to his poor widowed mother. Anyway, one day she sends him to the market to sell the family cow, cos they’ve got no money, see? And he meets this guy who’s selling these beans, and – “

“Jack and the Beanstalk?”


“You’re describing Jack and the Beanstalk.”

“Hey, that’s a great name! Jack and the Beanstalk…I like it. But how’d you know there’d be a beanstalk? Did I foreshadow too much with the open – “

“No, Jack and the Beanstalk was only my favorite fairy tale, that’s how I know!”

“Whaa? What are you talking about? This is a totally original story. I just made it up right now.”



“You made up the story of Jack and the Beanstalk?”

“Completely original.”

“Does your story, by any chance, involve a castle in the clouds, a giant who says ‘Fee Fi Fo Fum’ and a singing harp?”


“Does it?”


“There you go then.”

“ Forget Jack and the Beanstalk. You could..uhh..”

“No, forget it. We’ve spent all this time talking about nothing and I still don’t have a blog post! We’re suppose to write like 400 words! I can’t even string 4 words together right now!”

“The length of that previous sentence says otherwise.”

“Shut up.”

“Well you’re rude. So we’re done here?”

“Yeah, shut it down. No post today.”

“Great. I’ll go on break then.”

“Hey, now wait just a – OW! Where the hell did this door come from?!”

“Later, chump.”

“Come ba – DAMMIT! Stupid doors!”