June 30, 2008
image: Infinite (cc) S n o R k e l
When I was younger, I used to imagine that I could read the minds of people as I'd walk by them. In nearly every case, my mind-reading was scoped to what those people were thinking about me as they'd walk by -- I had some sort of weird fascination with how people perceived me. I've always had a healthy sense of self-worth, so most of the time, I would imagine that they were thinking positively about me, but on occasion, I would be self-conscious with the way I walked (I'm not sure why), and in those times, I would imagine that they were secretly making fun of me.
The thoughts just sort of popped into my head, you see. I never really thought about it, and I never assumed that it was unhealthy or narcissistic or anything. It was just something I did.
Recently, something very strange has been occurring in my head. Instead of imagining that I can read peoples' minds, the thought that these people can read my mind has entered my consciousness, creating a bit of a psychological recursive loop: I'm imagining that they're reading my mind, and can see that I'm imagining that they're reading my mind, and can see that I'm imagining that they're reading my mind, etc., etc., ad infinitum.