There are no words. Just perfunctory hugs, friendly smiles, some empty, general niceness going about, like a lazy kind of flu or something. Except this is not a sickness I can cure. Besides, if I were to complain about anything, it's that we are too sterile. Too bleached. What I want most of all is probably exactly like a sickness.
I don't know. I can't say much, not just because of others' constraints on me but because my mind is literally muffled. Nothing but incoherent noise reach the linguistic cortices of my brain. So there are no words. No words. Just noise, and niceness. Two very neutral things. Like beige, or a nice, forgettable blue plaid.
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