My thoughts are pale white orbs, with a molten inside. They lack a tactile surface, and they slip and slide on the surface of my mind. I stand among them; they are few at times. But I stand still, and they hurry on by.

The thoughts are mobile, they don’t like sloth. From the few that were amass many. Uncountably many. They shoot on by too fast for me to catch their meaning. But I stand still, and it’s peaceful yet.

Till one of them hits me. It moves quickly away, into the crowd, and I don’t know which one went first. But soon, they all come at me. I’m already on the ground, and as I get up, another thought hits me down. I lift again, and another strikes me. Then another. And another. They keep striking me. They won’t stop. I’m already down. Is that not enough for them? Must they barrage on?

A thought presses down my hand. Its weight is like a pale white planet I can’t move. I can sense the warmth of its molten core radiate through. Another thought clasps my leg. Then the other leg. Then my other arm. Then my chest. Then my entire body. And they keep piling on, one after the other, their raging inferno seeping through their dense shells. I pray none spill open.

All the thoughts pile on me, and I can’t do anything. They’re pressing down my chest. And I can’t breathe. Help me. Help me. I can’t breathe. Help me. Help me.

Please help me.

27.VII.21