In My Head

There is a voice inside my head,

a jaded voice who is not me,

the cynical voice of my being,

my person,

who is always projecting,

always assessing and judging,

always adding meaning,

embellishing facts with stories

telling me what

I think I want to hear,

rather than distinguishing

what is being said.

I watch me filter what I hear

through the ears of this voice

who narrates through what I project.

How convenient

that I can make anyone say

whatever I want them to say.

I can make anything mean

whatever I want it to mean,

so long as I remain

inside my head,

having the conversation inside my mind,

within my imagination,

the safe confines of my own thoughts,

where no one else is included;

where I dictate all the parameters.

and control all sides;

projecting my own thoughts and words

that always affirm me.

Here is where I make up my own meaning

attach it to what is heard or read,

where I receive the constant validation

I fear I might otherwise lack,

Of the truth I project myself to be.

If I engage

in any conversation or study,

already knowing;

with the preconceived notion

that I can’t know any more;

I am done learning.

I cannot take anything new in,

and I am deluded.

Do I read and hear

from a perspective of vindication?

Of one-up-man-ship?

From the need to be right?

From the need to look good?

From the need to conform?

From the need to be disagreeable

From the need to be loved,

Appreciated,

Accepted?

Do I hear,

To learn and grow,

Or to defend

What I already know?

There's a conversation inside my head.

Am I listening to what is said?

Do I add meaning to what is read?

Or do I protect my person instead?