POEM: Suspended Disbelief: or, Oribtofrontal Cortex Down Posted on September 11, 2017 by B Gourley Like Chuang-tzu, I didn’t know whether a butterfly dreamt me. It wasn’t for lack of absurdity. No. Absurdity was in abundance. Rather, that block of brain that calls bullshit was sleeping. It’s failed me before. Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc. Print (Opens in new window) Print Share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) WhatsApp MoreShare on TumblrTweet Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Like Loading... Related