My brain is a thin, tightly-wadded handkerchief shot full of holes. I used to think the holes made up constellations, that everything looped back around. But now I know it is a lot more random.
There is a word in Norwegian for the foggy mind of a breastfeeding mother. Ammetåke.
I’m not a new mother, nor a mother at all, but can nevertheless relate.
Today’s Facebook feed is next to unbearable: flashy videos solely composed of fast cuts and unnervingly catchy subtitles. What did I do or what did I click on last night to conjure up this particular form of purgatory?
As I type, words dart in and out the hotel lobby that is center of my mind, like the sound of so many revolving glass doors. Not all the words are in English and not all linger. It’s a confusing bustle. Vilkår. Grunnleggende. Selvfølgelig.
I started collecting synonyms the day I tried to translate the word ostentatious.