It sounds like it’s coming from above and behind me, the wretched mewling of a cat in heat. I know there’s nothing there but it could still be real. There’s been a lot of that lately, not ugly cat sounds but the blurred feeling of being indistinct in the face of reality. I’m so substantially intangible and harbour such vivid intellectual viscera, when the lines are not only faint but shimmer and shift with perspective, who knows where the truth intersects. The effort it takes to focus on the agreement is exhausting, I get so tired of hearing lies.