Stendhal

They weren't lying. I thought they were lying, because it sounds like something someone made up to fool unaware people. But it's happening to me, the Stendhal syndrome is real and it's happening to me, and I'm officially a sick person. That's exactly what was missing in my life, mentall illness.

And the symptoms are happening in pretty much the same order in which I read them when I learned about the Stendhal syndrome, confirming that I'm fucked up in the head, doubly so.

Rapid heartbeat, dizziness, fainting, confusion and even hallucinations after being exposed to so much beauty. A sudden, powerful experience that overwhelms the mind and leaves the body driverless.

I guess it could be worse, I guess it could be much worse. And it was to be expected anyway. It was a matter of time. I wasn't expecting to be the first mentally healthy person in my family.

I'll just embrace it. What else can I do?

Enjoy the pretty colors, the arousing shapes, the smell of freshly picked citrics. I'm not in control and I don't care. Let the light reflect and refract and do what's in it's nature to do. I'll be here enjoying the ride and hoping for the best.

A distant rumble rescued him away from Stendhal and allowed him to take control for a second. He stopped looking at her and raised his eyes. Behind her, in the background, he saw a waterfall and a rainbow and some other things.

2019? Probably.