I run to the prize, but I get hit by the glass window. How deceptive glass is! I keep on falling flat on my ass. And despite all the attempts, my perseverance, my hopes; I never get anywhere.
And I stay here: staring at the ceiling, surrounded by old, linoleum tile. This land without North, South, East, or West.
The figment of my imagination. How real it appears! It makes me so foolish, so confused, so belittled.
Get me out of here...
Guess I'm back after all
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