It is not that of getting lost in the spirals of the wall, those patterns and faces, making shapes from basic dots and strange angles in places. Imagination straining. This is dissociation, it is no joke of wow that fan looks nice But I really just lost my sense of self in this life. The surrounding surfaces were not real even with my hands on itβs surface Was this fire really burning, those candles melting? All I see is glass burning, charred over black ash. Tell me dear Do you stand in doorways feeling dizzy because the reality is crumbling and that sense of smell does nothing It lingers with this annoying sweetness Yet the candles keep these levels grounded It is looking in the mirror and not being able to recognize who is seen Is that me breathing? Am I touching the sink, is my face so strange to look this way. Some days feel normal and others I have no sense of taste Imagine those sweet desserts no longer having flavor We will cry at this frightened state, the world does no favors. But here we are also aware that this is real despite how it feels, maybe I am magic Sage my beloved hated name. Who are you? Why don't you ask the world the same.