Brains, brains, Brains, Brains, Brains, brains, Brains.
Brains, Brains, brains, Brains, brains.” —Zombie Haiku.
Don’t stumble. Don’t fall. Lose your mental stride and you’ll end up depressed, bipolar or schizophrenic. You could wake up in a post-war mental ward feeling like your whole past is a hazy dream. And believe it, there are millions out there who know the story: gradually your motivation dims, your sleep becomes disturbed, and you lose clarity of mind. Then you’re in big fucking trouble, for there’s a threshold here, and once you’ve crossed over it’s tough as hell getting back. Sometimes meds help, or even institutionalization, but more often than not, you become dependant on the drugs, and then there’s a second monkey on your back.