Control

"I am in control of my own thoughts," I told myself, as my mind determinedly soliders on through past hurts, theoretical confrontations, and everything I logically know will likely never happen.

"Shame for you," my very reasonable tone of voice, "I have the knowledge. I read the medical report. I listened to the phone calls."

I remind myself, "I am in control of my thoughts."

Yeah yeah, whatever.

"Interesting that the first words out of your mouth, where a justification, for an accusation, I didn't make. Feeling guilty are we?"

At this point I kind of abandon all semblance of control. I am in control, but my mind won't be satisfied until it understands itself a little better, or gets bored of it.

Revelation: "I'm scary, to some people."

I smile an unpleasant smile.

"I don't deal with users." I've reached some sort of conclusion. At last.

A few more meandering loops, as my mind winds down, ending with revelations, and this conclusion.

If ever I am faced with another ultimatum, I need to step back and examine the scale. And always do the opposite thing. Or maybe not the exact opposite thing. Find my own way, to step over that line.
Because I am in control of my thoughts, and my life.