Waiting
An elusive memory that had always found its way into the back of my mind, catching me completely unawares, had turned my stomach from the knotted corpse of its former self into the disaster forcibly regurgitating itself simply to comply with the nausea following. An empty stomach had a very simple flaw to it, one that could be compared to the human mind. With nothing left in it to fill it with basic needs, in the case of the mind compassion and purpose itself being these basic needs, the stomach will begin to eat its and tear itself apart to consume the nutrients necessary to stay alive. And so the human brain fails to find its motivation for the mundane, it also fails to maintain its grasp on reality. Its need to keep some sort of life within a poorly functioning system toppling over itself.