Vertigo

Perhaps at times my thoughts disintegrate before I can fully grasp them. I feel cerebrally queasy, as if sitting on the edge of the bed, shocked by the sight of my own shoes. At times like this I liken my mind to a glass which is so easily shattered. One wrong move is all it takes. Yet I resolve to regain my composure and find a way of comprehending the situation. While preparing my escape, I call the waiter over to the table and ask for the bill.

Maybe, preoccupied with the ever widening and contracting circles of my thoughts, I have a sense of being completely surrounded by water. Before me a thousand thoughts are waving, as if aboard a great ship sailing away from me, and all hope of them ever seeing dry land again is diminished by each crest of turquoise wave crowned with snow-white foam. A mounting sense of unease takes possession of me, as if in a moment immediately before a disaster. With barely half of the pizza eaten, I grip the table edge as a seasick passenger might grip the ship’s rail.