Comes from nothing fancy, but the cone of an ice cream. Being crushed by some fat kid that just stole it from a powerless kid. Wait, rewind, we can't start with this. We need butterflies in the summer and good spirits and little girls in pretty little dresses with flowery hats. Then the cage comes down. How do I break its lock and get out to chase the tiny butterflies? This must be the butterfly effect playing its dirty tricks on me. Back to the ice cream. Hot summer day. You're at the countryside, more precisely at the end of a village, and all that your eyes can see is a green pasture. Almost blinded by the powerful sunlight, you chew an apple. You took it from your grandmother's house and now you're taking a stroll, to see what changed since the last time you were here. Nothing. Nothing changed. Maybe a few more fences up the road. They say this is how we get modernized, by raising more fences. So, you see the fences and you feel something twisting inside you. It's not sadness or melancholy, you just choked with an apple seed. After you recover, your line of thought is back on its trail. "Man, if only ice cream cones would be put out here instead of these fences", you catch yourself dreaming. But it's a dream within a dream. A wonder you even let yourself do it. Dreaming that is. You shudder and you wake up in a cage surrounded by little girls in pretty little dresses with flowery hats. They're having ice cream, crushing the cone in between their milk teeth, while you feel again like dozing off and fantasizing about breaking the lock of the cage and chasing butterflies or some other gay shit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsknERhoP4I

It was rather cold and dark had settled in for a couple of hours. Still raining. If he looked down, through his apartment window he was pretty sure he could see the Amazon, yet he was as further as he could be from that place. He just finished his usual late dinner which may have involved too much garlic and now was ready to disappear. Where to? I can't tell, I was not able to figure it out, but his plans got the best of him, it's like plans existed on their own and he did not. He planted himself in front of his window, lights turned off and opened up the window, not to jump, no, he was never that bored, but to feel the acute chill of the night and hear the rain better. He strained his eyes to see the ever smiling and ever helping neighbor who was living right across his apartment. He also called her "NiceTits", but unfortunately he never saw the real deal, all was in his head. Quite a nice head, if you ask me, but with the potential to wear you off as gently as a Formula 1 tire.
Staring idly into the night, he kept thinking of nothing in particular, yet he was onto something. Felt like some old lady was messing with a ball of thread inside his head, but each and every one of those threads, as tangled as they might get, lead to somewhere. "I should just close my eyes for a second or two", he said to himself and drifted continuously until the hands of the old lady messing with the ball of thread got tired. Swinging in her ancient chair, if you could look closer, you could see the walls around her were made of yarn balls. Colors here and colors there, some faded, some brighter than the other, it was really quite a show. Inside his head, that is. It was still raining and the Amazon was still there with its murky waters, bubbling with the unknown. "What now?", he asked himself...and the answer came straightaway: "Milk. A cup. It'll do, the old lady in my head will appreciate it."

So exciting to have lots and lots, loads and loads. What do you mean, of what? Of everything, of course. Of money, of clothes, of pets, of love, and of thoughts. Gather everything in a wheelbarrow and carry it around, chin up and looking with pride toward the horizon. Lots of pride, naturally. So, we march on an on, pushing our consistent wheelbarrow, until all of a sudden we get a pebble in our shoe and a stomach discomfort. Then, we look around and expect to see something as big as our wheelbarrow full of everything, so that something could wipe all inconveniences away. A headache, that's all we get, though. In some cases, in lasts forever. I've heard of cases where some of those with a headache disappeared just like that. My grandma says they're frozen somewhere, they're stuck and all we get is a blank stare. I don't have to worry, though, I have everything. Except thoughts. I keep losing those.