I think that sometimes, instead of not being all the way there, I am there too much. suffocatingly involved and tuned into every minute detail until things swirl and blend together in a cacophony of chaos. I can hear the loud, dull murmur of those around me as the lines of myself become too harsh, too thick, too real, compared to my own surrounding. this is when my sense of self is truly ambiguous. I feel as if I'm on a different plane, but I know better. even during this, one fact becomes sobering: I exist, loudly.