As if someone had written, blindly, on their own memories. In every day, your hands gently ran through my hair. The plains reached the sea that reached up to the sky that reached the eyes as a light fog. I have written you a map. From the smallest details we find, every morning – in the shining light that is bright – our way into the most important scientific truths. I drank the dry. Someone pampers my darkness in the bright future (brb). Zeitgeist. Shit. Show.