the cacophony of whispers speaks again ....giberish spouts from my bloated brain ....my head is .....
rotating.. tating around the room whispering at a decibalac boom . . .  up is down and down. .  . is no left turn... drumbeats skid off my dishpan brain... i see a mark.... liqour green.... an unholy stain.... parrot like my mother squawks.... that won't soak out ... you've ruined your best brain ...
my my mind is ... listing to the right....and feels.... decidedly....  strained like ....custard bumpy..  and lumpy...... the whispers....... screams chunk about... and i ****..... awake.....sweatslicked,
drymouthed....... and ......jit...jitt....jittery...jitter...

i sit a second ...and then reach for reality .....a toddler who's had a bad dream.