Machuca
when your brain is like a raccoon in a trash can, ripping everything apart just to see what’s hiding inside. It’s like your thoughts are on a sugar rush and won’t stop bouncing off the walls.
My brain is Machuca right now. I can’t stop thinking about why my math teacher is ugly.
I had Machuca during my coffee break. Now I can’t stop questioning everything.
My brain is Machuca and it’s making me question why the sky is blue.