There are five widely known senses.
Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste.
We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more.
However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.

   If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.
   These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.
   So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.
   If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.

   Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.
   During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts).
Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.
   Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).
   The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.

   If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?
   When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?

in the somatic nervous system,
acetylcholine (ACh) stimulates skeletal muscle, causing contraction

action potentials
in the 8am physio lecture,
the biggest on campus
crammed with nursing majors,
and health science hankerers,
public health preachers,
OT saints and angels

amino acid NTs: glutamate (+) GABA (-) aspartate (+) glycine (-)

the prof wrote on a distant whiteboard
too many complained about being lost
she made a joke about feeding *******
to mice for her neuroscience research

amines: serotonin (-) dopamine (-/+) norepinephrine (+/-) epinephrine (+)

STEM-dominated
when i'm just looking
to drop my roots
and press that
good earth into
the spaces between
my toes and
under my nails

but the grounds are a garden
of biodiversity from clippings
gathered by migrant habit-clad
founders more than a century ago

the soil is fertile            it is temperate
there are water filters in most residences

there is enough here for me

See the fray of decay,
look at the level of debris,
even the God
who walked on water
they nailed to a tree.

there. was. a. time.
coun' ting' '  stars' ' '
poems\rhymes
the Sssssmell of
eu^ca^lyp^tus trees//
the ~sounds ~ of ~
tangerine
[&aquamarine;]
your liPpPs;
my _ dream _ s

》》now i
hold. all. this. (                    )silence;
{however || tenderly}
along-with-my-whiskey
& the
€ternit¥
BeTw | EE | n
ea" ' ch. " " tick." ' '
' of
' the
.. ' .. ' .. clock

his own & this world's realities are like the fuzz in the States
they're ones to escape
that's a plan of attack that's, on the lines of a wraith
switch side of Jo[ɑ]hnathan Blaze, running up on his brain
like Donald the dung piece, today
he feels bold, so maybe there'll be, like abundance of cake
["bald"]
fortune coming his way; this one's a schmuck thing to say
["fortis fortuna adiuvat"/"fortune favors the bold"]
but this club reminds of Ukraine (what?)
he, like motorized cavalcades
from the next-door empire, invades
its territory causing, like unaccommodating controversial writer, a sla[ɛ]m
[Eminem & his "Unaccommodating" song]
as he shuts the door frame; obvi, sO̲me people may
find them bars offensive, like an armed aggression
so my apologies, I'm somewhat ashamed
mainstream house stuff is on play
a thought in his skull: "this is lame"
Michael S. straight after he turned around & stumbled on blamed
Toby F.; through the crowd he cuts like a blade
[the ending of the "Frame Toby" episode cold open from "The Office" series]
having hopped U̲p on the stage
as if it were a narcotic substance you've ta'en
he, so loud as if with his cullions in grave
nU̲t-wrenching pain, bawls: "THIS ****** *****!", like a brace
of thigh highs colored with stains of blood; yanderE̲[eɪ]
["*****"; "so[ɑ]cks"]
schoolgirl; disgruntled, he makes for the f#cking DJ
delivers a verbal punch in his face by the fo[ɑ]llowing phrase:
"boy, go house-sit with your confounded
boring house sh#t, just like a housewyf"
whereafter thrusts him away
ending the uproar with "ciao, drip!"
music-wise, it's gon' go hard as nuts in this place
as if a flock of ones who're deranged
["who're" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "whoor"]
swung by a club in the wake of a ****** **[ɑ]spital break (nuts in this place)
he puts on midtempo dark cyberpunky synthwave
Gesaffelsteinish mid-paced
type of music; that's what drives his crumpet insane
speaking of crumpets, he spots a buxomish babe
while nodding his ******* nut to this cray
music, he feels like a **** being aimed
at, for she stands with her sight, like one of a gun, fixed his way
for a few secs, at each other they gaze
she's quite a fox with her vibrant locks
reminding of flame; somebody call a fire brigade
hourglass-shaped & rigged out in tight pa[ɛ]nts & a blouse
with a U̲-neck, like a fella without
*****, & leaving her waist a bit out
["******"]
on display; he makes his way to this frau
salutates her with "ciao"
she greets him with just the same, then he mouths
the following: "babe, you're way like a house
for lodging that's nowhere to be found
that is, in the deep of a labyrinth"
she's like: "what in the void's name's this about?"
he replies: "I'ma translate that one now"
"the way you look's amazing, ten out
of ten", like that "KleanColor" skin bro[ɑ]nzer
["a maze inn"; "Tan Out Of Tan"]
she makes a soft smile, then replies: "ain't you nice, pal
when you lay your thoughts out?"
"not being nice would be a crime
when you face a fine gal
like you", - he replies
"if so, rejecting the company of a guy so gracious would count"
as a crime too", - she replies
the guy asks the gI̲rl if she
fa[ɛ]ncies this sound
her reply is affirmative
she says she, mostly, faves underground
kinds of music; they vibe
to these tunes being pU̲t on, just like
that loony gobshite the whole antifa community'd like
to see end up ruined, just like
Aleppo or Mariupol; stop, I'd
like, before the main telling resumes, to rewind
a little: they vibe to these beats being put on; he finds
out, when asking her what drinkable fluid she'd like
to have, that she deems it uncool to imbibe (*****)
he replies: "to tell you the truth, so do I"
so if there's somebody to end up lit during this night
it is the moon in the sky
["some body"]
soon after having their soft drinks taken, they bounce
like the music style brought into this wO̲rld heaps
before chicks twerking
blew into the mainstream like "blaow!"
["hips"]
like a sick pervert that digs scourging
while engaged in a bout
of carnal fun, he's got a whip ordered
they wait for several mins for it
finally, the motorized conveyance comes out
like a deb girlie
[debutante]
he trails this fox like she's prey to hunt down
watching her proceed to[–]ward it
in a way like she's on a catwalk waving around
a rig splurgy
having hopped in it, to a lodging place they set out
the saucy look in her eyes
once his palm is put on her thigh
a sort of luminous sign–
–board reading: "absolutely alright
with going on a lewd spree tonight"

note to self

avoid laying down
my eyes begin to tire
head hang heavy
thoughts run empty
before I get
*any work done

our bodies fit(    your breathing
lockingin2-1   .breathhhonmy
another so      neck draws (  to
p. r. e. c.      ME IN you ) ouT.
i. s. e. l. y.     Time. is /running
it’s -HARD-   out/ everysinglu
to-take-them    larbreathhh cou
a    p   a            ntsd        10
    r             t              o 9        8
) …buti                w     TicK.
ca              7                  n
               nts            6       5
ta                  4
                 y,                        3
s            o        r           2       To
   r                           cK.
          
                           1
                  y/

question mar
ks???
written in pen with the brightest,
reddest
ink
dominate my thoughts
seeping in to
the curve of every comma,
filling the soft space
of every 'O'
clinging around the hard edges of every period
...e v e r y
                 w h e r e...
"where are my
exclamation poi
nts?"
I scream???

There's a cow on the roof
a cockerel in the kitchen
a pig in the fridge
and I am ****** scared

The sky is turning purple
people all seem to be smiling
what have they put in the water
what have they put in the water

Lovely is our police state
for all is perfect here
no crime no homeless
and we dance with JOY

Oh this happy England
this **** state of hell
our commanders are tyrants
I myself call them C*nts

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

Phoenix Park is that even on the map marked?
In Dublin, Ireland can I go there?
If he knew me would he care?
He wants to be near his son in L.A.
He owns property in both places.
He's a millionaire.
I have his 2009 calendar.
His biography.
His pictures.
Doesn't really matter.
If he knew what he'd be flattered?
Or think I'm obsessed?
Or that my life's a mess?
Or that to be together would not be best.
I don't want to be with my boyfriend anymore.
It's obvious he doesn't want a relationship with me .
If you don't see someone for almost 2 years it's pretty obvious that it's over.
He just doesn't want to admit that to himself.
I'm not going to be put on the back burner.
He took me for granted.
Too bad for him.
I'd rather be with Colin Farrell.
He is handsome, young and rich.
He dresses so nice I wish
I had the privilege of being his wife.
Whatever lady he's got is lucky.
He is so blessed.
An Irish kiss.
That's what I missed out on life's eternal bliss.
I want to follow his path.
My idol a celebrity from Castleknock is where he's from.
I wish I could get some.
I like cloudy skies with little sun.
slts who abort.
Cut precious and innocent lives short.
Sinners don't deserve to have breakfast lunch or dinner.
They should starve to death and get thinner. When your pregnancy is full-term you will have a winner.
Selfish cnts are vindictive b** who are backstabbing ***** .
There's at least one in every circle.
They don't have to stand out and wear purple.
They will dupe you and ***** you.
So watch out
Know what their all about.
Not even for one second should you ever doubt.
Take the detour route.

"O Allah!
please show me a path
a path of ease
a path of joy
forgive me if I have sinned
stop punishing my family if I have sinned
show some mercy towards us
change our future
my parents can't eat
instead they give their food to my 8 siblings and me
so that we won't starve
so that we won't die
their face can't even be called a face
they look like thin sticks
bless us with something
please answer my prayers
so that we can smile
I can't remember the last time we smiled
I can't remember because there is always a tensed look
on everyone's face
please show us the the path
to happiness
to togetherness
I pray to You
because i believe
I believe that we will find a solution
with the help You will give us
give us an opportunity
to make our lives better
Amen"
This prayer is said by all those
who can't
feed their children
who can't support their pare\nts
who can't help their relative in their time of need
they have no choice but to pray
but WE have a choice
by helping them
relieving them from their pain
letting them breathe
loosening the noose that is around their necks
so tight around their necks
not letting them breathe
not letting them be happy

Just because rugby *****
look like vaginas, there is
no need for the Lillywhites
to feel like a pack of c()nts.