Where does thought begin? From the mind? The body? The world?

And when and where does thought end?

When you fall asleep, thought seems to simply fade away like a curtain draped across the mind. Until you activate the REM cycle, and the images flicker and morph into some kind of apprehendible theatre, watching yourself think and feel. But otherwise you are where? A cocoon? A coma? A sentient being removed from making sense.

Is the mind like the quilt you cover over a bird's cage, so that the mind hunkers down in darkness, clenching its claws around the perch, and broods, save for the fluttering spasm of light or sound?