The blood rushes around my head, the wind howls outside, alive, the same.
Coffee is needed. Coffee. Sweet refreshing coffee. Do you take yours bitter? I ask myself, and I say no. Two sugars. Always two sugars. Black.
And where from is this coming from? The brain that never sleeps. My body screams for rest but the brain is turned on and on and on. Only time or catastrophe can flip the switch. Where are the dreams of tomorrow? Are they prepared in advance or spontaneous as this writing? Will there be another “Allerdice” in my dreams or will it be another journey through fleeting disconnects?
I don’t know.
We don’t know.
We may never know.
The brain is too powerful for itself to comprehend.