I cannot help but feel pulled, dipped, regressed into  sub-reality of music.. film and all the seemingly ideal.. modes of escape.  It is no longer ( or has ever been) a show of what you need to look and appreciate of me, I could care less. 

This is my panacea. This is my relief. This is a revelatory excursion, I gladly take alone. I like the lonely travel. Because when I come across another sentient/ nomadic soul longing for a home we’ve yet to feel, but knew it grew inside our chest, ew’d be able to appreciate each other much more.

I can feel myself slipping into the abyss, one mode at a time. when I was younger, I allowed my mind to “lose the touch” of basic reality. I remember when I made that decision. Basic human existence slipped and kicked off the dust of my feet. It’s like i pulled back the wall of a thin, layer of a tent; its peg unhinged, from sane to the surreal within me . 

I know those “select few” would be able to resonate with me.