• A fortnight, or less, I have spent wrapped in a cocoon of reflection; threads of doubt interwoven with a mass of human perception. Now, as of consequence, with all my heart and mind I’ve been resolving to resolve the problems, which I find when I close my eyes and get locked inside.
    As soon as the system shuts down, without a sound, I’m under; drowning in coloured lights and broken physics. Faces flicker past, my actions uncontrolled: I can barely pull the cover closer, let alone throw it over and block the thoughts out.
    I’m in love, but I’m not. I feel the flutter as if the world touched and echoed into reality, but, too quick, it dies, filling empty space with helplessness. I have never felt so less than half alive; two thirds submerged, a mountain hidden beneath the surface of this conscious universe. Yet, despite the receding swell of this tide, I can find no high ground. In the confines of neurons and synapses, there is no escape from thoughts and dreams alike.