She is falling still

in my mind, forever.

The further she goes

the higher the sound.

ring.
ring.

scream.
scream.

Soon, I’ll be falling too

Sometimes I write in the head of a character. I try and think what they think, which is really just what I think? Since I made them up and how they think, so I must be thinking that way too. Kind of like one computer logging in onto another. Layering the processing. Perhaps we are one of the computer’s down the line. A greater thought machine’s invention, and they are desperately trying to understand (me). So that they can better understand themselves. That is sort of the point of simulation. I’m doing the same thing aren’t I. Better trying to understand myself, by thinking up, someone else. For now I am alive, and for the few minutes that I wrote as them, they were too.

Confused? Don’t care.

This one character in my story had a head injury, and they heard their mother screaming as she was killed at the same time. The head injury caused some severe tinnitus, which they explain as hearing their mother still screaming.

I have a pretty bad ear ring myself, though my mother isn’t dead. I guess this is one of my many self inserts throughout the story. Some people complain about that. When authors put themselves into the work as a character. But I think everything I write is an aspect of myself (might get in trouble for that).

When I do an exercise like writing the above as someone else, am I getting out of my own head, or further in?