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.