The hum of the sunlight on the concrete streets, the smell of people’s emotions around me. I could feel it all, loudly and brightly. I could smell everyone, I could see their sadness—or their stillness, or their emptiness—as they walked past me. I could feel the energy of a grain of washing powder at the Laundromat. Everything. What do you do with so much stimulation? Where do you put it? I couldn’t process it all fast enough.
