Existential chaos

Existential chaos


Restless, thumbs under brows. Castle above the city. Neurology department leans to psychiatry. An occasional scream and dimmed hallways of the department.
On a wheelchair, a boy of my age. Screaming, shivering, rigid upper arm, saliva running down his chin, smell of urine.

My father says, crisply: “You don’t have this!” I squeeze my fist and dig my nails in my palm. It hurts only in my head …

So many questions, evasive answers. When, since when, where, how …

Waiting for my first EEG. (Electroencephalography is measuring the electric activity of the brain, with electrodes on the surface of the head).

I am only human


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