RE: Pro and Prod

Pro sits on my shoulder, he leapt out of my brain when the thought of bringing Prod out for a time slipped into my mind. He shows me things, new things that I have never seen before, to tempt me, to stop me from remembering Prod. Suddenly I am itching to be creative, life is at my finger tips, waiting for me but Prod sits at the back of my mind, scratching at me and reminding me that I need to work. Deadlines. Deadlines.

But there is such fun to be had, Pro whispers from his spot on my shoulder. I sigh, I know he is right but I cannot succumb to him. Prod smiles from inside my head, he knows I will thank him for it later and I will.

Pro and Prod

Pro is controlling, he sits on the grey matter with that spark in his eye and that smirk that gets exactly what it wants. Trying to talk to him leads only to a snappy remark; "Only friends call me Pro." Others don't get a name for him, they aren't worthy of addressing him but they know who he is and what he embodies. He won't talk to them after that. He's very stubborn.

Prod mopes. Sat in his little cave beneath the grey matter Pro keeps him locked up. Some say they are one in the same. A schizophrenic separated into two imaginary bodies. Prod is not happy but anyone can call him Prod - he has many friends.

He doesn't see them. Not in his little, pulsing cave. Pro stops him from doing everything and anything he wants. He isn't allowed. He's bound to doing exactly what Pro says.

He isn't happy.

But sometimes, if he concentrates and tries hard enough, he can slip through the bars and move up to the surface without Pro noticing. He smiles then. And get's everything done before going back to the little cave Pro keeps him in.