What ghosts and cows can do

Sartre’s third chapter is about a schizophrenic and his girlfriend.
He didn’t say if it is schizophrenia….but I know the pattern.

It may not be my brain but my genes. That much scientists could prove so far.

I had to open two milk bottles, poured it in the too small mug and left the milk rise in the microwave for three minutes. The first time after my childhood ended that I had milk so hot. 
Even now it is still warm, the white bubbles dry near the top, build a fine white membrane. I imagine that this is what my uterus must look like from the inside. The vanilla flavour fully lost in the unnatural high temperature. A cow could never do this, so I thought until Milka proved that cows could even be purple.

With my profile portrayed in a small bed side mirror, I listen to more music, as if this would change anything, except touch me embarrassingly each time I sing I feel a stranger walking through the door.

While Smetana strolls along the Moldau, I begin chapter four.

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