Where did you begin, and why? You wormed your way up and around and through the empty spaces, and here you are.
Sliding between firing synapses and branching pathways. Ducking dendrites, racing receptors. I felt you moving. Nagging. Tugging. Casually, you floated in, and you’ll stay until you decide to leave. Pull up an armchair, smoke a cigar. Please, mi cabeza es tu cabeza. Let us dwell together a while, unwarranted renter. I can’t evict you, and I can’t move out, so here we are.
But goodness! I hate smoke. And your chair is a tacky shade. Your manners are subpar. What to do with you? Sometimes, I believe you’ve moved, and I am grateful and lonely, all at once. Then I find you here again, simply tucked in a corner, taking a nap or eating a cookie. And I wonder, where will you go next? And how? And why? Will you wander down dark alleys? Or find a small quiet place to hide? Or snake your way through cracks and crevices somewhere else instead? Somewhere new? Or do you simply vanish, as a puff of air? No trace, no record.
You’ll let yourself out when it’s time. No need to lock up; visitors welcome. I’ve been meaning to up security, but it seems inhospitable.