It's like I'm living the dream of a memory. I don't know where all this feeling comes from. It seems so familiar. And so basically abstract, or simply huge, looming, permanent, above, over, simple and immediate and on top of you and then, it's a simple twitch, a small yank, and you can see so much further. You can see it all, and all of that stuff recedes into the distance, and now from far away it looks newly complex... but there are wide open spaces, green spaces, and the convoluted surface of this dream-like substrate becomes apparent. And it's all so simple when taken from a big wide distant vantage point, and suddenly not black but blue becomes the color of forever, and you never noticed that before. In the daylight there's dimension to all of this. It seems much more like a personal thing, a personal affront, instead of just this anonymous sufferingness. Everything is visible, and geez, it's like the most f'ed up deja vu you ever had, because everything everything is so obviously a visual average of every full color dream you've ever had, and every sight you've ever seen, and it becomes so clear that the feeling, that dream feeling, that feeling of a stagnant attractive comfortable hell which has been growing on the surface of your brain like a lichen for the past 13 years, that that feeling is an average of all the feelings you've ever felt, and that total emotion is named you. All added up together and divided by a bunch of years.
I know this sounds like, how can I be serious about this? Don't it sound retarded? But all of that is really really as close as I can get to putting it into words, how things really feel. It's weird, and it makes me feel crazy.