""I actually like living somewhere with so much empty space for once," he said. "It's nice to not have a place totally crammed with junk, isn't it? "Yes," Lee said, even though he didn't think so. His brain was an attic packed to the brim. He did not know what it was like to live any other way."*

That is an amazing explanation of a brain with anxiety and just muddled thoughts. I feel that really hard and now I am feeling sorry for a murderer? Maybe?