my brain feels like stretched taffy trying to think. my veins, arteries, capillaries, all my vessels are flushed with cortisol. i can't explain anything, so why try, even myself, a mystery. if i died would i be known a little more than this, or less? and then gone, who would i be? i see how eight fresh ducklings helps, with eight deep breaths, but it's not enough. would that i could drink a tonic for brief disappearance.