Sometimes my brain works fine -- I can be clear, coherent, clever. My spoken words make sense and are relevant to the topic at hand. My plans and internal dialogs progress along rational paths to reasonable conclusions.
Other times, though, I speak deep thoughts that turn out to have no relevance whatsoever because my brain jumped the wrong associative gap ("It is better to remain quiet and be thought a fool, than to speak up and remove all doubt"... a test I often fail).
Or I try to ask a question and my words come out in random order, making no sense or using terms and references that are just plain wrong. My thinking gets muddied, my plans become irrelevant, my conclusions are marred by confusion.
I hate this rogue brain. It whines, it's sullen, confused. The people around it probably don't like it much, either, and that bothers me. I mean, I grew up with the damn thing and I'm kind of used to it, but I really don't want to inflict it on the greater populace.
I want to people understand that this... other... isn't my brain. My brain is the bright, witty brain that solves problems and is diligent in its work. My brain is likeable. It's this *other* brain that is so unpleasant. Not mine.
But I doubt I could explain it to people. I would say that I have two brains - my good brain and my bad brain, evil twins in my head - and I would lose them. Their foreheads would wrinkle in thought, but my words would be the words of the evil brain, confused, unclear... and mis-understood.
Anyone need a brain? I have two...