Ever have a day where your perception of the world completely lacks coherence? When all the people, all their hustle and bustle sound like the over-amped volume of someone else's walkman on the bus?
Everyone and everything melds in and out of clarity, like someone turned off the normal flux of reality… or switched life to one of the snowy channels? Even when someone you know interrupts your aimless journey through the faceless, diluted massed, you only recognize them as though some distant, recurring dream? Like a memory half-formed, which you respond to in a voice not your own, when the auto-play button is switched on inside your head? Your head…detached, yet anchored despite itself to the rest of you, inevitably, but drifting further away from your shore of consciousness than it's ever been… It's an orange buoy, a dot on a foggy horizon of slow, uneven waters… tussled in the lazy automatisms of reality's fuzzy wavelengths. Everything's faded, pointless, yet ongoing, like a carnival r