Whateveritis

Jess, Steve and I went out Sakura singing our last time today and it wasn't an altogether good day. In fact, it was a pretty bad day. We spent most of it sitting down playing the guitar in shifts and talking about music.
We came home, and on the way home in the car as I sipped my coffee I gave birth to this potent piece of...piece of...
Um...
Whateveritis.
(In my head, I kept seeing that super old nature documentary from the FED video store...the one about the salmon that go back to their birthplace to have their little child-salmon. I saw that so many times. It was actually pretty boring wasn't it. I never realized that before.)

THE POND INSIDE MY HEAD
I have a pond inside my head. It flourishes with fishes. I used to be proud of those fishes, back in the day when they used to be beautiful; a kind of orangeish species singular to this specific brain.
And then they started trying to get out. They knock and knock against the outer wall and disturb me in silence. When I access my brain in a lulling moment, I hear the sounds of violently whapping fins. It threatens to drive me insane. What is this fish with the dangerous beauty of an eel and the fervency of a salmon?
What happens now is I open my mouth in an effort to calm the disturbance inside my head. I have a moment of sweet relief; the fish are gone. They swim out into open waters. And then! they MATE with alien fish--the sperm of other minds, demented, like mine. And then they swim back into my pond to bear their young, to repopulate and take over my brain with their armies of spawn--that start out like little pieces of soil and explode into flapping fishes.
This next time around, I've barred up all the holds--there's no way out for those nympho-salmon. I expect a bit of banging against the fence for a few days--but once the worse is over and I've starved the suckers, I'll have a quiet and peaceful pond inside my head, and I expect that after three or more years the thought of dead, belly-up, bloated salmon drifting therein will not bother me so much.
Please be considerate and do not allow your fishes to knock against the outside of my fence, because that usually results in the excitement of the fish on the inside who I am trying desperately to subdue. They'll bang and bang and I won't be able to shut them up, and likely I'll hang my entire plan and let them all out again because it's just too much trouble. Please don't do that to me.
I'll open my stagnant pond to the sun, the little fish will degenerate and the rain will overflow my head and clean out all the moss and flotsam. I won't miss the fish. The water is beautiful.
---Florence McNair