I picture my mind as being the foyer to a huge library that continues on to infinity.
Everything is made of rich, dark wood and golden brass much like an old bank.
The floor is made of a white marble and yet it feels like thick plush carpeting. Looking up you see a cloudy gray sky. Like a cloud was lassoed and brought in and allowed to reside in the upper tiers.
Looking around are balconies with brass railings and doors leading to various memories, times, moments, etc.
Between each door is a large bookcase full of books. These are full of reference material, books I have read, thoughts, dream reference index’s, etc.
Looking straight ahead as you enter, you will see mission control but just beyond that is a long very wide hallway leading toward the great glass and marble spiral staircase (I guess I don’t have any elevators installed? I might want to look into that). If you approach mission control you can see off to your right and left that the large hallways continue down as far as the eye can see.
At mission control is where the 5 archetypes sit.
These are the people that “run the show”.
They don’t do the grunt work but they facilitate each and every thought. They process requests; they provide the daily outlook and control each mood.
These are the personalities.
Each day the foyer is a bustle with thousands of various people running about.
Some are dressed in roman like togas and look quite scholarly, some are in business suits, some looking like they just crawled out of a coalmine. They all are talking to each other or deep in thought as they stride off to… wherever they are going. You can also see the balconies as these characters are exiting from one room and entering into another.
Each day and every day this huge foyer is a bustle of noise. Slowly at first as I awake and the day begins but it rapidly fills up quick. An orderly chaos ensues as these synapses run around on the daily business. The clicking of heels, the roar of the mumblings and laughter and conversations is rather deafening. Sometimes a unwanted memory will break out of their door and come rolling through the foyer like a drunken rugby team. These have to be beaten, shot and whipped back into their room and the door bolted shot.
Then night falls and business types start to weed out as I put work behind me but there are still quite a number of “people” rolling around.
Finally at bed time it's time to clear the area.
Some days are easier then others. Some days everyone goes to their room and it's just some light entertainment as the dream team comes out and does their thing. Not sure who runs the controls then, never really met the fellow.
Some days it seems like no one wants to go home. Everyone is still strolling about. It seems as if some have even forgotten where they were going so they just stand around talking to whomever will listen. This is usually when real old doors start flying open and odd and vagrant memories start running about causing damage and a raucous noise.
If I concentrate really hard I can contact the Shadowman archetype and have him start herding these guys back to their cells. Sometimes they have to be threatened with forgetion* before they start moving. Sometimes the Shadowman has to take a couple down with his 2 gauge shotgun (yes I said 2. The shells are the size of beer cans). One or 2 have to be taken out to get the rest of the memory to know who is in charge here.
Yeah. That a pretty accurate depiction of my mind.
Maybe one day we will return and see what is going on for the day.
*(combination of forgetting and deletion)
BTW: if there is an aspiring artist out there who would like to render this for me, please shoot me a line. I cant pay anything but I surely could add details and would LOVE to see it.