The gap of glucoses in his system yawns and pulls at his eyes while the synapses in his brain ping the same argument around his mind again and again in maddening loops. He can't escape the cycle of conversation he's projecting onto a future self that isn't likely to ever exist. But that fiery pseudoclone is too amped up on rage to let him slip quietly into a comfortable slumber. He bangs his pots and pans around his skull and makes frenzied arguments to phantom enemies. His body wilts as the hours pass and his heart pounds. It is only the heavy curtain of exhaustion, all his bodies resources spent, that knocks him out for a few hours before he must wake and brace against the relentless hours of the next day.
Paddy Dobson
27th April 2022