Is this real life?

Around a year ago I wrote the following on my .pages journal:

My life lately feels like a dream. Like, it doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels really real, does that make sense? Probably not. It’s like it is all a dream and days are passing. The city became sunny this weekend, adding to the ethereal feeling of it all.

The dreamlike sensation has not vanished, but by now it feels rather familiar. Like how sometimes when I am alternating between my screen and the street, I briefly see those passing by as grotesque shapes and faces. It’s normal, right?

What do others do, in their free time? I often remain in bed thinking about the accelerated expansion of the universe, a grid expanding, black background, white lines. The universe, doy. Yes, I trained myself well, I can spend hours and hours in my head without emerging back but I am not sure if I like it, I can no longer detach myself from certain technical thoughts as easily as I detach from reality. I imagine myself as a sheet of paper that folds into itself when I am in this state. Eventually I roll out (rather, someone stretches me out), but it’s like if you leave yourself in this particular state for too long, you’ll inevitably carry the wrinkles and the biased tendency to fold back.

Recently I have been trying to feel things, rather than think things, and it turns out it’s damn hard and non intuitive. When was the last time you sat down and looked around, without listening to music, without looking at your phone and without rearranging terms or code in your head?

Man, honestly, I don’t remember.

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