un cuerpo

dead guy
Brains in the skin but out of the skull.

A few blocks prior, some eggs fall and blast open on the sidewalk.  I used to play such pranks.  Fucking brains.   Out of the shell.
Shock stunned guts.


The sound is just my breath.  Holy shit, I'm so glad to hear it. 
I used to count my breaths when I was afraid I'd go to sleep and not wake up.  Counting down to ___ (xyz).  Whatever. 
This particular man lay on his back, a pillow under his head, propping it up almost.  But no pillow.  Brains out of the shell.  a Brainpillow. 
Looks like a tumor, almost.  Pink, kinda swelling, as if in heat.  So much heat happening in the Brainpillow.

All those thoughts, all those ideas.  Splat, brainpillow, heat, Nada.
Not nada, then people flip the body over, dissect what happened, stir the dead like mixing a fucking fruit salad. 
Respect the body. 
It takes a beating from physical elements, internal stories, and subsequent actions. 

Often thoughts are the bullet in the gun.  Then more supporting thoughts set it up to fire.
Just thoughts, but taken to be a valid source of information (according to our own fucking heads, of course). 
Get out of it.  Think about the pillow behind your skull. 
No discrimination of thoughts, just detachment.  Getting outside of the brain, but keeping it in the skull.