A popcorn for every thought

If I had to describe my life, a popcorn machine would immediately come to mind.

In my mind, thoughts crackle just like corn kernels before turning into delicious popcorn and as always someone fails to take shape and remains unfinished, sometimes charred.

When it happens it can be seen immediately in my face: my hair looks like Mafalda’s, even if a few minutes earlier I had passed him the straightener; my pupils are dilated like a cat’s in the dark; my smile is the pleased one of someone who has just got rid of a burden.

“Olé, even today I made some excellent popcorn” I think with satisfation.

But while I try to fix myself to have a more credible and human appearance, I start thinking about that charred grain and I forget that I have left the car on.

‘Ffffft… poom… pam….’

Thoughts generate other thoughts, one popcorn leads to another and here I am again in action.

There are two cases: I must have eaten too many popcorn when I was child or I want to open a cooperative of crackling minds and sell the smoking thoughts to distracted spectators, who watch the game of life without asking too many questions. Who knows maybe a little salt in his pumpkin wouldn’t hurt him!

Either way, can you please tell me how turning off the machine?