I use the term brain monkeys a lot when I write, especially here on the blog. I like the characterization. I like the imagery. More than anything, I like what the phrase does to the idea of explaining the inner workings of my mind.
Why monkeys?
Well, because monkeys are cool.
There’s a charisma about them. A strange elegance. They can be graceful one moment and absolute assholes the next. They are curious, clever, mischievous, unpredictable, and occasionally just plain obnoxious.
Which, when I think about it, makes them pretty damn good representatives of what goes on inside my head.
So yeah, brain monkeys.
The term works for me because it isn’t just a cute metaphor. It gives my internal mental life a cast of characters.
It gives the madness somewhere to live.
I can picture them in there, chattering away in the background. One is obsessing over something that happened three days ago. Another has suddenly decided that a completely unrelated thought is critically important. Two of them are arguing over something neither of them actually understands. One has discovered a new idea and is swinging from it like a jungle gym.
And every once in a while, one of them comes up with something brilliant.
That’s the thing about the brain monkeys. They aren’t necessarily bad. They’re just… busy.
They are the constant movement of thought. The curiosity. The distractions. The connections between things that probably have no business being connected. The sudden insight that arrives while I’m doing something completely unrelated. The questions that won’t leave me alone. The memories that wander in without knocking.
Sometimes they’re funny.
Sometimes they’re irritating.
Sometimes they’re downright exhausting.
And sometimes they get really, really loud.
That’s where the gorilla comes in. Because every good hierarchy needs an upgrade.
The monkeys are the everyday mental noise—the chatter, the curiosity, the restlessness, the nonsense. But occasionally something bigger shows up. Something with weight.
The gorilla.
The gorilla isn’t chattering. The gorilla is standing there. A powerful emotion. An obsessive thought. A fear. An urge. A realization I can’t ignore. Some enormous mental obstacle that has suddenly decided to occupy the entire room.
The monkeys can make a lot of noise, but the gorilla doesn’t need to.
It has presence. It has mass. It has that unmistakable I’m going to have to deal with this quality.
And maybe that’s another reason I like the metaphor. It allows me to look at all of this with a little distance. Instead of saying, This is what my mind is doing, I can say, Jesus Christ, the brain monkeys are at it again.
Sometimes that’s enough to make the whole thing a little easier to understand. Or at least a little more entertaining.
So yeah., Brain Monkeys.
They’re in there. They’ve always been in there.
And apparently, they have a gorilla.
There’s more waiting at https://xinkblotz.com.
Telling stories, sharing thoughts, and drinking coffee. A blend of fiction, reflection, and whatever’s brewing—one post at a time.
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© 2026 Mariano Velez ~ InkBlotz Press
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