Twisted Observations
Have you ever dragged your eyelids open, under severe protest, of course, some morning and realized that you didn't know anyone? I mean, if a person stood in front of you, there would be recognition, but if you said something you would have no idea how they would react. You can see emotions on their face, but you've forgotten how to interpret them; indeed, if you ever knew in the first place. They say something and you have to wonder what they meant by that. You have no idea how to respond, you don't know how to act, and it's almost like you're speaking a foreign language. You might as well be for all the communication that gets accomplished. It's as if you've been plucked from your world and shoved into a twisted parody. A bad farce, in which nobody is who they seem to be, who they claim to be, or who they ought to be. You sift through various relationships, conversations, actions, and situations, trying to feel what you did before, desperately trying to make sense of it all, wondering when your life became so complex. All of a sudden, you realize that it's no use trying, because as soon as you make sense of something, or link an action/reaction sequence together, the table gets tipped, and the rules are changed all over again, and you're back where you started. Things that occupied space are 2D, and those flat images you didn't pay any attention to earlier have expanded to include depth in their dimensions. Nothing is logical and all sense of order has flown out the window. Your mind spins in a confused whirl, trying to find something that's familiar, but it's like I said: you don't know anyone any more. And what's really bad about not knowing anyone is that you are truly alone in a crowd.