My worst is faced with disassociation, questioning my own sanity, looking in the mirror whilst listening to the softness. Though, disassociation breaks those boundaries, It’s weird. I don’t want or feel comfortable with defining it and at my best, I don’t care to. At my best I embrace the stares as simple acts, the finger pointing as fascination but at the same time, I’m living in my innocent normality which shifts internally and in my choice - privately, your eyes should do the same.