'Why, oh why, does my head hurt?' These headaches are getting far too intense. The pain is a warning I heed for the moment, then I pop a pill, and the moment is gone. 'I mean, I just don't understand.' I sit at a computer on the couch on the train on a bus on a plane head down thumbs blurring hunched over descending devolving revolving around a sun that will one day go out. 'Oh god,' I exclaim as I clutch at my brain as the information is shovelled in again yet again spewing forth in a stream from a never-ending source of bright lights and loud noise that blunts sleep and dulls wit. Snap. 'My synapses!' I scream as with a jolt like a dream a cascade begins that runs down and within from neuron to axon to dendrite to soma to cell to nucleus and further within. Then failure. Then meltdown. Then ... Pop. 'Why does my head hurt?'