Peace of Mind
It’s been a while! Almost eight months, in fact! I’m sure you’ve all been desperately waiting for me exactly as I left you so I won’t bother asking how you’ve been. As for how I’ve been? Well, this year has been what we in the business call a lot. I’ve recently discovered a number of things which could be described as “non-conducive for work”. However, I’ve carried on! For what reason, you ask? Why, for you, dear reader. That’s right! You specifically. In the blazing heat and the frigid nights, it’s you who pushes me to keep going. For that, I truly want to thank you. Now, you might have hoped that my long hiatus was due to some immense opus I was preparing to dazzle you with. Well, um, sorry to disappoint. To be honest, I haven’t gotten much done on that front for a while. I’m working on it though! My goal (not going to say New Year’s resolution because we’ve all seen how that went last time…) is to get into a decent enough work flow that I can begin posting here again at least once a month. I’ve been working on a couple of pieces recently with certain goals in mind. Namely, each one is meant to help me overcome certain weaknesses in my writing and storytelling style. What are those weaknesses, you ask? Let’s put a pin in that for now. I’m hoping that these pieces will prove to be both entertaining and exploratory works as I develop my writing. The first one is a dark little ditty that popped into my head while reading some comments on a certain social media site. If that isn’t enough to dissuade you from continuing then, by all means, read on.
I’m sorry to say this, sir,” the doctor said. “But I’m afraid you have an idea.”
Q wiped the sweat from his brow. He wasn’t surprised. He’d been feeling the symptoms for over two weeks now. Damn it, why didn’t he get checked out sooner?
“Will I— uh, how’s it looking?”
The doctor shook his head.
“If you had come in sooner, perhaps we could have done something about it. As it currently stands, your chances of having it removed look slim. A stray thought is easy enough to extract, but once it has festered into an idea? The roots often run too deep.”
The doctor took out a legal pad and clicked his pen.
“I’m going to ask you some questions. We need to figure out where this idea must have come from. Otherwise others may be infected as well.”
Q gulped and nodded.
“Have you recently watched any independent films?”
“Of course not.”
“Listened to any songs other than the season’s top tens?”
“I don’t even know where I’d find that kind of music.”
“Have you attended any rallies for third-party political candidates?”
“Doc, what do you take me for?”
“I have to ask, Mr. Q. It’s procedure, you see, when dealing with an idea.”
Q shrugged and the doctor continued, “Have you read a book recently?”
“Only books approved by the governor.”
“What state do you live in?”
“Florida.”
The doctor nodded and crossed out what he’d just written.
“At the very least, you appear to have done your due diligence in avoiding the main sources of ideas. However, it is important to remember that ideas are insidious. There are all sorts of innocuous ways in which they can creep in and affect an innocent mind. We are exposed to all manner of minor stimuli in our day to day lives which can cause ideas to fester. I ask that you think back and that you please be honest when answering these next questions. It’s about more than diagnosing you. It’s for the sake of removing an existential threat from your community.”
“Alright, but I really don’t think you’re going to find anything.
“Well, let’s see. Have you ever studied a second language?”
“In America?”
“Traveled abroad?”
“Does Miami count?”
The doctor stared and scribbled a few more notes.
Aw, c’mon Doc. I didn’t mean—”
“No need to apologize. This is what happens when people get ideas. It’s not your fault.”
Oh... ah, ok. Listen, Doc, I”m worried about my kids. I don’t want them to get infected with whatever—”
The doctor held up a finger.
“One thing at a time, Mr. Q. It’s important to that we fully diagnose you first.”
“If you say so...”
“Let’s continue the questionnaire. Have you recently eaten any ethnic food?”
“Absolutely not.”
The doctor clicked his pen.
“But... I guess I did go to that taco place a few weeks ago.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow.
“C’mon, Doc. It’s a huge chain. It barely even counts. Besides, everyone who worked there was white, I swear.”
“Hmm.”
I just don’t know, Doc. I tried so hard to be careful. Not just for me, y’know? I didn’t want my family to get infected either. I mean, I’m so busy anyway, it’s not like I’ve got the time to sit around getting ideas in the first place. That’s the problem with this whole capitalist system in the first place. Working-class people are constantly being pressured to put their noses to the grindstone or else they have no hope of advancement. In the meantime, creative pursuits are actively dis—”
Q clasped a hand to his mouth. He took a breath, long and slow. Then another. He tried for a third, but it came out as a choked sob as tears started to roll down his face.
“You’ve got to help me, Doc.”
The doctor shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Q. There’s nothing I can do to help. I’ve seen this happen plenty of times before. Hard-working men like yourself brought to ruin by one little idea. That’s the problem though. It’s never just one idea. They’re like a fungus, growing and reproducing in your mind. Multiplying and feeding off of you like parasites. It’s not simply the ideas themselves that are the issue. Once you’ve been exposed, they can re-contextualize your other thoughts as well. Your job, your hobbies, even your own family. Your thoughts towards any of those things could be irreparably altered by an idea.”
“I can’t let that happen.”
“We can discuss your options, but first we must figure out how you contracted the idea.”
Q nodded.
“Have you recently had any new coworkers?”
“No.”
“Neighbors?”
“Not sure, but we don’t talk anyway.”
“Have you recently visited any museums?”
“Who’s got that kind of time?”
“Do you like to walk?”
“Sure. We’ve got a forest nearby.”
“Do you walk alone?”
“Whenever I can. Listen, I love my family, but I still need some space from time to time.”
“And do you have your earbuds in, as recommended?”
Q scratched his head.
“I mean... not exactly.”
“Mr. Q...”
“It’s not like I’m reading or something. I just like to listen to the sounds of nature. They help me... relax.”
“Relax... and think?”
“I... yes.”
“I see.”
The doctor leaned back in his chair.
“Mr. Q, I have some good news and bad news for you. The good news is that your idea seems to be self-induced rather than one you’ve contracted. It is generally more difficult to articulate such ideas and accidentally pass them on. The bad news is that they are almost impossible to treat. They tend to be subtler than other ideas and by the time symptoms appear, it is often too late to save the patient. As I said earlier, your condition is most likely terminal. As far as options, we have a consultant who will go into full detail with you. Needless to say, if you choose to continue living, you will be kept in solitary confinement. You will at least be provided with approved entertainment materials. We wouldn’t want to exacerbate your symptoms any further. You will be permitted to say goodbye to your family with a chaperone present to help prevent you from infecting them. They will go over what to say in advance.”
Q nodded and ran his hands through his hair.
“How do you do it, Doc? How do you do this job and not get ideas yourself?”
“It used to be that half the patients in solitary were doctors who had hit their limits. We spend a lot of time being educated the right way which helps build a resistance but, thus far, real immunity eludes us. Of course, that’s a great deal of time and money wasted on doctors, so other methods are being worked on.”
The doctor lifted his hair, revealing a dime-sized scar on his temple.
“Still in the trial phase, but I’ve outlasted every other doctor by up to five years. It’s just about impossible for any ideas to poke their way in. Hopefully, once it’s fully approved, it’ll be made mandatory, but we’ll have to see.”
Q sat back and smiled.
At least there was hope.