And sometimes when logic twists every straight line you try to draw. You run along the crests and troughs of every stream of cursive. And music bellows, while tornados burst open, through every old creaking door. You are caught in a whirlwind and surrounding you, is an orbit of faces, words and tears that seem strange, stimulating a series of actions working one after the other in orders tandem.
What next? You wonder. Afraid and wonderstruck. Why? Curious and wonderstruck. Stuck and wonderstruck. Apprehension? Yes, although, it comes with a certain unidentifiable excitement.
What is going on?
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