Manage the Chimp Inside You

I apologise for the recent lack of rambling on my part. The chimp cycling around in my head-- the source of my rambling-- suffered from a terrible case of dissociative fugue. Allow me to explain.

From Wikipedia:

dissociative fugue... is a rare psychiatric disorder characterized by reversible amnesia for personal identity... Dissociative fugue usually involves unplanned travel or wandering, and is sometimes accompanied by the establishment of a new identity.

My chimp-- whose name, by the way, is Schröder, Simeon Schröder-- my chimp, Simeon, upon returning from his fugue misadventure, and having recovered his identity, asked me to tell his story for you. As I may have contributed to his fugue state by demanding that he cycle round and round in my head for hours on end, I feel obliged to do as he requested. Here is his story:

The misadventure began when he awoke from a brief nap one day, and impulsively put on his best suit, and cycled out of my right ear and into the real world. The stress and shock that Simeon suffered on exiting my cranium was too much, and he took on another identity, and he cycled towards Belgium in a state of panic...

...looking back only once.

He somehow made it all the way to London, where a policeman stopped him, suspecting him of being a foreigner. When asked what his name was, he replied, "Bobo." He couldn't procure a passport for the policeman, so he was taken into custody.

"Bobo" used his wits and saavy to survive while behind bars. But while in jail, he learned many evil habits.

He finally managed to escape by stealing some of the warden's clothing, putting it on, and simply waltzing out of the prison. He was soon back on the streets, but jail had changed him. He took to drinking on street corners naked.

He smoked.

He quit smoking, but then he chewed nicotine-laced gum incessantly.

He posed in public with disreputable women.

Sorry, that is the wrong photo. Let's try again.

Yes, that is the right photo.

And when he ran out of money, he robbed people.

No, nein, wrong photo again, just a sec...

Yes, that is the right photo. He became a stockbroker, you see.

He made a lot of money.

But then he lost it all in a cut-throat, high stakes game of poker.

He became homeless and destitute.

Then he was taken in by a mysterious man, known by the name of Niemand Keiner, who fed him and bought him a new suit.

Niemand taught him to play chess instead of poker.

They became great friends.

Niemand and Bobo traveled the world together. They cycled together through Mongolia, where Bobo's passage was commemorated with a postage stamp.

They went to Russia together, where Bobo learned the art of photography.

Here are some of his photos from Russia:

Afterwards, Niemand took him to exotic lands with palm trees where the locals were so impressed, they commemorated his story with a comic book.

Then, when Niemand felt that Bobo was ready, he accompanied him to the end of the world, and said, "Bobo, it is time for you to go home. Find yourself. Goodbye, my friend."

At the end of the world, Bobo meditated for many days, and he

became himself again, and he remembered where his real home was, and he decided it was time to go back.

It was a long road back to the inside of my head, but Simeon made the best of it, meeting new friends along the way.

Yes, that is where that photo was supposed to go.

So Simeon is back, with a bicycle, and himself again. We have a new working arrangement, with flexi-time and dress-down Fridays and he only cycles two hours a day at twice the pay.

Sigh.

Also, he is allowed to leave my head every weekend to visit his new friends.

All of them except the mysterious Niemand Keiner, whose whereabouts are unknown. However, I received a strange postcard this morning, without postage or return address, and I believe it was from this mysterious Niemand. This is a photo of the postcard: