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Medication doses can generate these feelings. They call it depersonalisation. It’s just a word. It doesn’t tell you how it feels to experience it. 

Raindrops slide down the windows as though the panes are crying.

A chimney half a mile away issues a thin plume of smoke while malnourished birds cut through the cold air.

The noise of cars echoes from a motorway, a low dull swish like dirty waves reminding you they’re there.

This place is Gormenghast castle. It is the steel mill in Robocop. It doesn’t matter what it is.

I sit promoting a state of involvement while in fact my brain’s in space.

I do not care about any of this.

 

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