I have too many neurons. I know this isn’t true but it tastes right falling out of my mouth. Everything is happening all at once and I think I’m moving too fast but don’t know how to slow down. So, I (do not) have too many neurons. This room has all the right tones and I’m bouncing from the golden hour slouch couch to the deep green jungle cup (lush). I’m starting over every time I blink and the girl at the table across from me has an American Football sticker so I’ll love her yellow curls for the next half hour longing for the two empty seats between us to contain the quotes of a conversation that never happens.