autumn pulses in my chest

In my probably incorrect understanding of how the human brain works, most of our processing is happening below our level of attention. I think of a rolling thunderstorm. A thought is more like a lightning bolt, a moment of connection between positive and negative charges. When I think I'm forming a spontaneous sentence in my head, it's the result of the tension between my experience of the external environment, and the frothy cafe mocha that is my sense of self. 

But honestly I try not to think about that too much.