100%
Breath in.
Breath out.
Turn over.
I'm waking up now, I can see instructions running behind my eyelids like movie credits. I never thought like this.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Sit up.
What is going on? I can hear the drip of the leaky faucet of my old bathroom, the constant ticking of the clock on my night stand.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Shake head.
I try to shake out the overwhelming cacophony of early mornings. It's 7:12 AM, the temperature is at 70 degrees and information is bombarding me.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Stand up.
I'm getting dressed now, seeing every fiber of the cotton shirt before I even reach for it. The denim pants are jarring for I can practically taste the metal as I pull them on. Focus in on one object. I will myself to just do, not feel, not think. It doesn't work.
Breath in.
Breath ou-
The shriek of a baby makes me gasp, it's three floors above me, the baby needs to be changed. A girl is getting mugged in the lobby down the block, the gun is a glock, the man has a bad heart. It sloshes instead of a steady beat. He needs a double bypass. The doorman is asleep, his breath a cocktail of cheap vodka and cigarettes. My head is pulsing, matching the rapidly climbing rhythm of my heart. The muscles in my fingers- the lumbrical muscles- are vibrating at an alarming speed. My vision is getting blurry, my finger tips look blue. I remember.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Breath in.
Breath out.
I read once when I was in college that a human being only uses 10% of their -our- brains. A girl, 22, with blue eyes, brown hair, a body mass index of 20.5, had asked what would happen if humans were to use 100%. The professor, a man, 45, brown eyes, gray streaked hair, weight of 175 had answered he did not know. Remember.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Blink.
I was at work. I had arrived to the solemn printing company, the machines were howling making my brain rattle. I cut it off, they were no longer howling but were a dull buzz.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Look around.
I saw strings. So many. Oh so many. It was a wonder I was not tangled in them. My boss, a woman, 52, gray eyes, grey hair, height 6'2 was covered in them, practically a puppet. Her heartbeat was at 70 beats a minute, her blood pressure at 95 over 75. The new intern, a girl of 17, green eyes, black hair, a mass in her neck had only 2. Her heart was barely a patter in her fluid filled lungs.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Focus.
I saw the movie credits running through my mind. I was sitting. New information running through it, my nose was filled with the stench of ink as new books were born. I stopped the credits, the scene with the professor was playing on replay in a small corner. I brought it forward.
Breath in.
Breath out.
Go.
I was in the room again, watching the lecture. The dialogue played through, I moved to the front of the room, somehow making no motion. I ran my hand along one of the ancient computers. I traveled. Out, out, out. The small college blurred into cities, states, countries, planets. Earth spun, the endless tirades of wars becoming the greatest times of peace, the temperature rising and falling, humans' cries growing from a drone then back down to a theatrical silence. I knew, I knew, I knew. This was 100%
Breath in.
Breath out.