First, the brain aches. It
insists whatever you do is
something extra-terrestrial, foreign,
having no basis on earth. That no reference of such actions
hide in the obscure corners of
recorded history.
Then the eyes are ambushed. In such
close proximity to the brain, they’re
persuaded such pursuits aren’t
worthy of their exertion. They
rebel furiously against their host through
manipulation: blurriness of vision or
refusal to open.
The mouth succumbs soon after;
the tongue, brawn to the brain, deliberately
underperforms. “Forgets” how to
move itself in conjunction with
the lips and
the vocal cords, slurring, tripping,
bullying words into incomprehensibility.
The spinal cord is the
deciding factor. Whether it chooses to
heed the skewed propaganda the brain
spews, or rightfully disregard such
heresy determines if the host is or
is not a lost cause.
On this occasion, the spine has
listened—a dangerous act, for one second is
all the brain needs to convince it that
gravity is unjust in inflicting its
pressure upon the spine’s delicate
frame. That the only way to right the
horrendous wrong is to scream
aches and pains upon all
segments.
If this occurs, the spine being
the hub of information, all other
limbs riot in unions of
tiredness, insurmountable
heaviness, and unignorable
need to be disposed of all
stresses.
And so the mutiny of tiredness
prevails, and the host must
oblige, taking to the elusive phenomena called
sleep, the magic of which quenches
all complaint.
Alex's Blog 