You know how when you become aware of your own voice inside your head… and, suddenly, it’s like it is just there, all the time… and your like, “Guess this is me talking to me… wait, or is it my subconscious… no, no it can’t be my subconscious. I never know the horseshit my subconscious is up to until after the fact. What am I even thinking about? Am I thinking about thinking? Frivolous, drivelous, liquid dish … wait… liquid dish? The first two, okay… but are we just randomly rhyming now? Why did that pop into my head? Who is speaking? Why do things pop into my head in the first place? Must you… I… be so verbose? How do I change the log level? What is the most dreadful, terrible, awful thing you could thing of ever happening to someone you love? WHYYYYYYYYY?” until some time later you realize that little voice must be napping on account of the quiet? My voice ain’t had a wink of sleep in years now. Fucker.