I could go on and on about how my mind works. I am an introvert, after all. But no one wants to read a novel, so I'll try to limit it to something especially neat (at least to me).
The neatest thing to me about how I process thoughts has to do with the way I approach belief. When someone asks me a simple question like whether I think there's a God, I find it almost impossible to answer. I don't think strictly in terms of true and false; for any given object, I hold many contradictory beliefs at the same time. So someone will ask me if God exists, and at once these many layers will superimpose themselves over each other: To you, God is real, so yes. Religion doesn't appeal to me, so no. God is an idea, and ideas are real, so yes. The concept of God doesn't make sense, so no. And everything is true and false at once, so yes, no, both, and neither.
This leads to a lot of indecisiveness on my part. Whenever I latch onto one layer, it ends up feeling arbitrary; I've only done it because that layer appeals to me, and I could just as easily reach for something else. So I keep asking myself whether I shouldn't change my mind, and the more I consider that question, the more detached from objective reality I become. At some point, everything starts to seem meaningless and arbitrary, like a scattering of unconnected dots. I could see someone going mad if they stayed very long in that state of mind; it's incredibly alienating, and makes me long for someone to pull me out of it. It does, however, lead to a tremendous level of flexibility. Once I reach that point, I can see countless ways to dive back into reality, and I can choose any of them I like.