it's snakes eyes
I can feel it. Constantly feel it. A sense that not all your thoughts are your own. Like there's something else in here with you trying to pull the strings. If it was one of your own little voices you'd know, wouldn't you? You'd recognise it. The speech patterns. The accent. The familiar demands they all make of you. But where did this one come from?
It's not just that unrecognisable disembodied voice you. There's something tangible about it. Something physical. It's eating away at you. Eating away. Eating. Get it out...get it out...get it out. It's in there. It's making me do things. Want to do things. I don't want it to make me do things. I am me. I decide what me does. I don't want something else burying itself inside the darkest parts and letting out what's in there.
Think happy thoughts...think happy thoughts....sour the milk...make your mind so rancid it won't stay in there. Think happy thoughts. It doesn't like that. It's practically retching at those joyful explosion of synapses. There's nowhere for it to go but out. I won't have any little parasite forcing me to do what I don't want to do. But there's no need for you to leave completely my little brain munching maggot....after all, do unto others.