By Umi Keezing<\/p>\n
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0I stare blankly at the white room. White walls, white sheets. The surgeon in the white uniform sits beside my bed, watching me with an expression of\u2014of what? I\u2019m blanking out.<\/p>\n
______<\/span>\u201cAre you awake?\u201d says the surgeon.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>I\u2019m too tired to think about hard questions. I also feel kind of sick. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cAre you pleased not to know?\u201d says the surgeon. His voice sounds like it\u2019s far away.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cWhat?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cNever mind.\u201d The surgeon sighs. \u201cLooks like the operation was a success, at any rate.\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>I sit up. It makes my head hurt, so I lie down again. There\u2019s a piece of paper with black writing on my pillow. \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cA letter you wrote to yourself,\u201d says the surgeon.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>I look at the black writing. It makes my head hurt even more. Still, I feel like it\u2019s\u2014how do I say it? Oh yeah, like it\u2019s important. I kind of remember writing it, but not what it says.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>I start to read it. It says \u201cM-Y, space, D-E-A-R.\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cWhat does \u2018dare\u2019 mean?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>The surgeon\u2019s eyes make a funny circle. He picks up the paper and says, \u201cLet me just read it aloud to you.\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cOkay,\u201d I say. The white light makes my head hurt a lot. I put my pillow on my face. That feels better.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201c\u2018My dear post-surgical self,\u2019\u201d the surgeon reads. \u201c\u2018How have you fared during your convalescence?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cWhat does \u2018convalescence\u2019 mean?\u201d I say under my pillow.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cSave your questions for later,\u201d says the surgeon. He reads, \u201c\u2018Congratulations on your acquisition of dimwittedness. The removal of your superfluous neurons will serve you well.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201c\u2018Paradoxically, your simplicity of thought will ameliorate your ability to express yourself. Due to their lack of intricacy, your emotions will require little effort to articulate. They will range from grief to joy, bypassing solipsism, and nihilism, and other tiresome \u201cism\u201ds. You will discuss them with others, who will\u2026\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>I open my eyes. The surgeon is looking at me. He doesn\u2019t look happy.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cWhat?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cAs draining as the surgery may have been,\u201d says the surgeon, \u201cI thought you\u2019d have the decency to stay awake while I\u2019m doing you a favor.\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>I look at the paper in his hand. \u201cOh yeah,\u201d I say. \u201cWhat does it say next?\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>The surgeon reads, \u201cDue to their lack of intricacy, your emotions will require little effort to articulate. They will range from grief to joy, bypassing solipsism, and nihilism, and other tiresome \u201cism\u201ds. You will discuss them with others, who will understand you.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201c\u2018You will derive genuine pleasure from your everyday activities. Your classes will stimulate your brain enough to hold your interest, motivating you to complete homework assignments and secure a successful future for yourself. Your trips to the mall with your friends will be intellectually bearable, even the hours of comparing nearly identical shades of nail polish. At the school cafeteria, you will never hear the voices around you fade to meaningless babble as you tire of their predictability. Neither friends nor family will accuse you of indifference when you decline to pose questions whose answers you already know.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201c\u2018You will never flee to a mountain, the valleys too crowded to accommodate your surplus of thoughts. You will never inch closer to the edge of a cliff, gazing longingly at the abyss beneath you, until you catch sight of a hospital building and recall a newly legalized brain surgery. Most importantly, you will never probe too deeply into the contents of this letter. You will no longer concern yourself with introspection, which will automatically erase your internal strife.<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201c\u2018Please do not blame me for your mental debilitation. Between you and your brain, I chose to kill your brain. Sincerely, your pre-surgical self.\u2019<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cAnd that\u2019s that,\u201d says the surgeon. \u201cYou\u2019ll never be able to reply to her, since she doesn\u2019t exist anymore. I hate that I played a role in her self-destruction.\u201d<\/p>\n ______<\/span>\u201cThat\u2019s sad,\u201d I say. \u201cDid she die?\u201d I don\u2019t really care, since she sounded kind of full of herself. Nothing she said made any sense. She did say something about nail polish and the mall, though. I want to go to the mall.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" By Umi Keezing \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0I stare blankly at the white room. White walls, white sheets. The surgeon in the white uniform sits beside my bed, watching me with an expression of\u2014of what? I\u2019m blanking out. ______\u201cAre you awake?\u201d says the surgeon. ______I\u2019m too tired to think about hard questions. I also … Continue reading The No-Brainer by Umi Keezing<\/span>