My head feels like it's filled with alphabet soup.
Cans and cans of it, all jumbled up, the thin broth lacking any morsel of substance.

You know, if you tried hard enough, you could make sense of all the random bits of pasta; turning them into words . . . full sentences even.

And sentences are the foundations of thoughts.

But where to begin?

That, my dear, is the hardest part - looking at all those funny little letters and trying to work out some sense from it all . . .

My head is full of alphabet soup.

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