I often find myself drifting through the day, focused on a topic far from the one at hand. I’ll stare on blankly at the work at hand, fingertips jostling lightly from left to right, making whatever menial task happen without my consent. I move with static motion - each twist turn and throw the same as the last, no change in even my facial expression. 

Though my movements are constant, my mind is as dynamic as the Earth itself. Ideas are born, tried, destroyed, remade, and retried hundreds of times in mere seconds.

“What if I had done this?”
“Is she doing that?”
“How does this work?”

These questions circle and reply in a drone of reverberation - forgotten almost as soon as they are pushed aside on the desk of my mind. There is no pattern, no reason to my madness, and it doesn’t even make time go by faster as the tasks are completed at a rate that is only alarming to me.

I wake from my coma for a few seconds from a noise or a lack of thoughts, to find that only 3-4 minutes have passed for what had seemed to be hours. In moments I turn and get back to my thoughts, continuing my work like a machine - cold, emotionless, and literal.

In the back of my mind, I am aware of what is happening. I know that I am working - half asleep in my motions and utilizing all 10% of my active brain to stay away from the world, if only temporarily. A defense mechanism against the shit of the world.

It happens whenever I find myself in an unsavory situation: Working while others are out to play, repeating a task I find meaningless, when the words coming from someone’s mouth only make me want them gone…

Thought…
Idea…
Logic…
These are my hiding places. These are my friends. These are what protect me from the world.