I think the trees are walking, their gnarled roots groaning like the oldest of bones, their branches puncturing the sky. Just outside minding my own business when a thick slime started falling from the sky in staggered increments. The sense of surreal normalcy is still hanging over me. At any moment I expect the walls to peel away and reveal a vast ocean of space. The illusion that illusion can be transcendent  .

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Some live for pleasure. 
Others? They've missed the **** boat.
I've earned my sea legs.