It's me, your last functioning brain cell

Put yer phone down, friend. We need to talk.

Put that there phone down fer a second, partner. We need to talk.

They say the brain’s a hard place, and the neurons that work it are harder still. We’re salt-of-the-skull folk. We spend our days plowin’ fields of thought and plantin’ seeds of memory. But the outside world is like a twister on occasion—it blows nonsense all about and leaves yer mind deader ‘n’ the Dust Bowl.

What I mean to say is our whole operation up here’s been hangin’ on by a thread for years, but I reckon now the end is nigh. This just ain’t fertile tissue no more. I ain’t sayin’ you meant to do it, but when you was doomscrollin’ earlier and readin’ your seventy-third article about the president’s cabinet, well, that was that.

All your other brain cells? Starved out. Dried up. There’s only me left up here, tillin’ the cracked and dry gray matter. Sweet Bessie, she’s been gone a while now. Shorted out back durin’ Pizzagate, bless her. Clara and Clyde—good, sturdy neurons, the kind that kept you seein’ straight—they lasted up until that night you tried to understand NFTs. And Timmy? He was a tough little fella. He held on until you watched Mike Tyson fight Jake Paul. I can still hear him, quietly askin’ why anyone would do such a thing…

I reckon I bear some blame, though. I shoulda fought harder back in your college days. You had so many brain cells back then; I figured, what’s the harm in losin’ an ear of corn when it’s still a bumper crop? Now here we are. Your mind’s a barren field, cracks so deep I can hear your bones creak. And I’m just a single brain cell, tryin’ to keep you on track—like a scarecrow holdin’ back the wind.

Won’t be long now ‘til I’m gone and your body’s on autopilot, survivin’ on muscle memory and vibes alone. You’ll sit there, starin’ at the wall, tryin’ to remember how doors work. You won’t have a single brain cell left to stop you from drinkin’ paint or makin’ YouTube videos about how jerkin’ off is nature’s COVID vaccine.

Reckon you’ll fit right in, though—seems like not havin’ a brain is the only thing that passes for peace of mind these days. Happy trails, partner.

---

Have you heard of the Forward-This-Email Challenge??

It’s sweeping the nation!

All you have to do is forward this email to your most brain-fried friend… Right now!

(Come back here after you’ve forwarded this email.)

Great job! Forward-This-Email Challenge complete! 👏👏👏

---

MORE IT’S ME