Through the looking glass

Everything feels surreal. I feel like I live in a different world, looking into this one, and yet, I’m also in it. Nothing feels real. So what’s the point? What’s the point of interacting with anything in this world, if it does not exist? Time doesn’t exist here, this is the only room that exists. I exist alone. I know I can talk, but there’s no point, as there’s no one to talk to. I don’t eat, drink, or move, because it doesn’t matter, I’d just prolong living in this isolated box. I just lie there, on the bed, just breathing, while drifting in and out of sleep. I sleep about 1 hour for every 20 minutes I’m awake. I secretly hope that I can wake up back in my own world, where things exist, or just fall asleep forever, so I don’t have to wake up to this fake world.


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