That is the strangeness of language: it crosses the boundaries of the body, is at once inside and outside, and it sometimes happens that we don't notice the threshold has been crossed.
Our memory fragments don't have any coherence until they're imagined in words. Time is a property of language, of syntax, and tense.
Every sickness has an alien quality, a feeling of invasion and loss of control that is evident in the language we use about it.
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