I am listening, but there are a thousand voices in my head. Sometimes they make me laugh, sometimes a hound, its nose carefully shaped from gold and it barks and barks and barks and my head hurts with unnecessary equations that were never there. You are still talking, your lips move so fast and I find it funny. You feel otherwise.
I am listening, but there are a thousand voices in my head. I don’t hear them all, they adopt themselves and some just fade into the Bastille, I don’t remember. A room filled with yellow stress balls that bounce off holographic mirrors, or were they plastic? Mid-air they fall and my hard headed vessel or skull short circuits, and it becomes dark. What was that again?
My legs shake, not from the cold or nervous waves… My ankles and violent bruising against a chair, now impatient, I have grown tired to listen. Tired and impatient, tired and impatient, the thousand voices in my head, restless and weightless, tired and impatient.