Space.
Absence of thought.
But also, the presence of thought.
The idea lingering.
Hanging by a thread.
Each word, one by one.
Connects into the next.
Until it all becomes a blur.
A mass of text.
A fog hanging over your head.
Persistent, constant, motion.
Unending. Unnerving.
Never stopping.
Never ceasing to sleep.
Or take a breath.
Work in progress.
