My brain is fucked.

I accept this and have to deal with it. I have a terrible attention span and can’t think with any discipline anymore. The neurological pathways in my brain have developed scattershot. I know I’m not the only one. Probably most of my generation has this disease. These are the kids who hit their teens as the internet burgeoned. We didn’t have it as grade schoolers, it came in high school. This is terrible for us. We’re internet suave, but we weren’t indoctrinated when our brains were pliable enough to fully master thinking in a compatible way. We have half-internetted brains.

I’ll officially dub this syndrome, “Paritally Internetted Neurodegenerative Syndrome”. Or “PINS”. I have severe PINS. If you were born in 1979 you are in the high to extreme risk category for PINS. That means you were thirteen in 1992, and are 29 now. Risk decreases the further away from that age you get. The old generation has zero-internetted, and the new generation has fully-internetted brains. The old school technophobes and new school 2.0 kids are safe from PINS.

So I’m going to try and treat this as a disability. What is my therapy? Since I can’t focus for extended periods without a new thought pattern loading in my head like a new webpage, I’ll take a page out of the Guy Pierce movie, “Memento”. I will put positive symbolism up around my desk to prompt my brain into behaving. I can’t stop myself from having tangents, but maybe I can improve the quality and value of the tangents.

I’m half serious.