I can hear people talking, somebody said in Jack Daniels’ brain—it sounded kind of like AOC, but it wasn’t AOC, and it wasn’t the voice I’d assigned to Alex, either, which was part AOC and part the voice of some internal narrator I had on default half the time—a voice I didn’t call for, but seemed to suit me well enough.
Well, Jack Daniels’ had the thought—the thought belonged to him, and he had to decide what to do about it, so he did what he usually did—he told us all about it. He got on social media, and, in his wrath, wrote: I can hear people talking—they don’t come from Norway; no—of course they don’t—and we’re going to cut interest rates by infinite percent, and then people won’t be talking about me so much; i can hear them on the radio, talking about me, trying to do a number on me with their little connections and their beady eyes—the whites of which are exceedingly yellow—they’ve got some disease, it’s genetic, they’ll all get it, and they’ll die because they come here and they don’t take care of themselves—they lie and rape and murder because of their genes—you don’t see that kind of thing in Norway!
Well, truth be told, Scandinavians were wealthy—and that was the reason you didn’t see that kind of thing in Norway. I wanted to point that out, but I didn’t have enough followers to make much of a difference, so i kept it to myself. But i wanted to make a difference—after all, i had access to Jack’s private thoughts—and i don’t think he had the holy spirit helping him—he ran the holy spirit off a long time ago, when, for whatever reasons, he started being mean to people.
“pucker up and die” was the next thing that popped into Jack’s head, and, oddly enough, that voice sounded like a superposition of Blondi and some other unknown factor that may or may not have had anything to do with the people in Jack’s corner. Most people don’t pay attention to the voices that our mind’s ear use when they think things, but, truth be told, there’s a little variety taking place—it’s just difficult to hear, or tune into, because we don’t know how to pay attention to it. It’s kind of like wiggling your ears: you can’t tell somebody how to move their ears—you just have to think about moving your ears and then move them. But you never really had a reason to move your ears—unless, of course, you wanted to show somebody that you could do it, or you wanted to relax your muscles.
Using your mind’s ear was kind of like that: you couldn’t tell someone how to listen to the pitch or tone of your thoughts—you mostly just heard a blend that you thought sounded like you—but it really didn’t. The only way to hear what your mind’s ear was saying and or projecting was to think about hearing it, and then you just hear it. You can’t tell somebody how to do it. Probably the closest thing you can tell somebody, in both scenarios, is to smile with their eyes, and then just pay attention. It helped sometimes if you heard or thought something to repeat it inside your head in the sound that you thought you heard; also, it helped to repeat the sound of the voice of the thought in your voice—the voice you use when you talk, which is difficult to hear unless you’ve heard yourself on a recording.