You have one,too. Don't raise an eyebrow at me.
A hungry mind's what I own right now. The kind that hears things and chews on the intricate details of conversations, the kind that reads in between the lines and has started treating that little art as a particular delicacy of its own kind, the kind that entertains the voices in it; imputed or from a source that's alien, but somehow within.
A hungry mind is a dangerous thing. It leaves you gathering layers of presumptions, conclusions, wishful thinking like layers of fat. And it's harder than you think to get rid of it. No matter how much you exercise over the routines of shutting the brain down, a hungry mind will find fodder from ignored sources that were considered harmless. You'll be baffled at its persistence.
A hungry mind talks to you. It tries to reason out with you and tries to put a halo around it's intentions of advocating sleepless nights. It speaks of Insomnia in a tone that nods at it being productive.
A hungry mind breeds in your pursed lips which refuse to acquaint itself with the world. The world talks a lot, you see. And I'm sorry darling, you're a part of it. The world feels insecure about your silence, which is why you've been autographed an arrogant lad.
Your mind's tired of being the only one talking, it craves impressions, judgement, speculation, hypothesis...but this time, not from you.