My brain says: “ I am your brain I am you Yet you exhaust me I must watch over you day and night When you sleep, I don’t. I breathe your breathing I keep your heart beating I digest your eating I process your pulses I dream your dreams I manage your memories You are I Yet I am not sure You exhaust me As if you are a master And I am just a mechanical servant: an automat! But you are not able to love anything I don’t approve You can’t do anything, I don’t authorize Yet I feel I am bound by a meta-rule I follow what you do And you follow what I inspire You sense a thing I create a sense You see a thing I create a sight I enjoy what you do I want more. I inspire, incite, imagine! Yet I feel I do not know you. The way you do not know me. You live in illusion, in delusion You think you dream You fancy I change your fancies into fantasies Your fantasies into fun-to-sees You rejoice You enjoy You indulge In illusion, in fantasies, in day-dreams Look you are now driving in a crowded street. Heavy traffic. Already late. Fed up. You escape to me. To a tiny corner of cerebral cortex. Up there through the leaves of this huge oak-tree You see a strange cloud A white cloud with very blue rims This is the gateway of my escape: you reckon You find yourself up there like a magic bird The cloud is made of fresh mint, green leaves of an oak tree and boughs of a willow-tree All fresh with nourishing scent. I want to rest here. This is my abode. I go along with your fantasies I feed them. I spin them for you. Yet, I watch over you. I keep your unconsciousness conscious. Look out, man! You are about to crash! I protect you. You would be dead by now if I had not warned you in time. You may be dead next time Cause you exhaust me You ignore me so often I do not know you. I don’t know me. What is this brain? This soft, pinkish, greyish, bloody walnut controlling you through the spinal chord? Have you ever asked? Does it ever matter?