She, does not remember that she thinks, does and does, but no longer acts. She has almost become one with her thoughts. The fast-changing mental carousel unleashes emotional storms that sometimes discharge themselves as euphoria, then again in sadness. Apparent lightness and in the next moment as a neurotic dramatization of everything. Always moving up to the grotesque and fanciful comedy. A prisoner in his own head. Has it always been that way, or has it come this far? Head births with arms and legs? Like in Rilke’s the panther, in Portuguese Pantera.