The little butterfly asked me: “How is it to be you?” “Why are you asking?” “So I have something to think about when I go to bed.”
I searched for words. I mumbled. I wondered. I thought some more. Because it is difficult to describe. Eventually, I said that I am like a piece of music. That pauses are essential, like in music. That I have moments of excitement and moments of reflection. Moments that are fast and moments that are slow.
And that I do not like emotional overload, intellectual overload, or overload of any kind, yet, I feel always overloaded. Not sure if it is a matter of time, of times, or just a mental glitch.