It would not be even approaching some sort of equilibrium, or balance between our worlds to suggest or offer explanation that I am sick and you are not.
Riding the tidal waves of seizure through the night, laying on top of an all consuming duvet which in the next second is a concrete slab. The radio triggering slalom, mind bending audiovision. A tiny lady country singer pointing to a crescendo of one’s pulse and hyped breathing. So too the prompting of the unique voices of the news delivery, that have become activators after decades of adaptation to the rhythms of my travels in the night. . . .
and you, have a hangover?
......over the edge 