When I was in school, I would do a lot of spacing off, tuning out and daydreaming. Sometimes when I was in the middle of a particularly strange and unusual daydream, or an embarrassing one, I would become convinced that someone near me could read my mind, hear my thoughts; I would become absolutely convinced that someone knew what I was thinking. I was sure of it. I would then become obsessed with this idea, and, depending on my mood, I’d either try my hardest to think normal thoughts, or, I’d think of the most fucked up shit I could imagine and casually look around to see if anyone reacted.
I never did see any evidence that anyone knew what I was thinking. But that didn’t stop the paranoid idea from creeping into my head time and time again. It didn’t make me feel any more alone with my thoughts. I didn’t feel alone in my head. I mean, I knew my personalities were driving, but I always felt like there was an observer. Someone, something watching, listening, to everything.
I’m sure I’m far from alone in feeling that way. Perhaps that’s one thing that helps nurture a belief in deities. The absolute certainty that someone is listening, even when you’re scared and alone. Someone is there, and they can hear you.
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