The brain is an enchanted forest, neurotransmitters and hormones are nymphs and dryads in the folk mythology of industrial man

Dopamine, spirits of compulsion, they attend you whenever you feel short episodes of satisfaction. Their gifts are darkly compelling, once you sample them you must have more

Oxytocin, adorable cat sprites big neotenous eyes sparkling with charisma. For some reason you instantly trust them, they would never hurt you. Indeed they seem to have gained your trust suspiciously fast. You can’t help it, you just have to give them a hug

Cortisol, stress salamanders, immune to flame, they creep and slither, multiplying anxieties, graying your hair, weathering your face. The ritual to banish them, a hot bath and a glass of wine, rarely works. Others ward them away with cigarettes

Serotonin, faeries of bliss and well-being. If one comes to you, you feel content, but then you try to chase them. Your longing repels them, they only visit those who have let go of the desire.
Alchemists try to capture them, crush them, sell them as pills

Adrenaline, fiery and hot headed, little gods of instant action, they are drawn to danger like moths to a flame. If they sense a person in distress they will rush to surround them, attenuating pain, focusing desire

Testosterone, misunderstood shades, formerly worshipped, but the high church now teaches that testosterone is a poison, the shades are demons, urgently in need of exorcism. In the old days every man met a shade when he reached a certain age; break the man and let the shadow in

Estrogen, a nymph, her embrace makes makes the body soft, the libido plastic, it amplifies the TEXTURE of emotions. When Man beholds her she becomes iconic, transfigured, seen as an object part-worshipped

Phytoestrogen, a trickster gnome, dresses itself up as a nymph and sidles up to the frickin frogs, turning them gay. Paranoid mystics eat no soy and touch no plastic to maintain their purity

Leptin & Ghrelin, feast and famine, eternally at war, they ebb and flow like the tides, the duality of man. Ghrelin whispers in your ear, eat, eat everything, eat the world, gremlins of gluttony and satiety

Melatonin, purveyors of sleep, are superstitious phantoms, congregating in darkness, deathly afraid of blue light. We turn all our monitors yellow to placate them, praying with our eyes, a pact with the spirits of circadian rhythm, no more blue light I swear just come back

Histamine, swollen, sneezy, uncomfortable imps, they are drawn to spider venom, pollen, bee stings, peanuts, shellfish... When they sense these things they surround you, an aura of discomfort follows them.

Tryptamine, machine elves with glowing crystal eyes, moving like a glitch, leaving a trail of winding geometry poems wherever they walk. When you're not looking they sneak up behind you, and imitate the voice of god.