Miss Misery 2001-02-05 .
then / after

The worst high:

Images were going through my mind. All sorts of images, the ones that stuck out most were the ones of me. Sitting, standing, it didn't matter. The profile was the one that scared me most, made me think I wasn't real, I wasn't even looking in a mirror. I didn't feel real, I felt like I was part of a play, part of a dream, I realized that I didn't exist and that I never would. For a minute the world was angular, like everything was a Picasso painting. I felt like nothing I didn't look at existed. My hands didn't exist if I didn't look at them, my legs didn't exist if I didn't look down at them. I looked at my face without a mirror, and my eyes were angular, my face was a broken cube. I felt like I was choking on air, because the air wasn't real either. Everything was 2-dimensional, it was like nothing would ever be the same again. I couldn't remember what the world felt like 15 minutes earlier, I could never imagine it the same way ever again. I would be constantly living with 2-dimensional thoughts. My past never existed, my parents weren't my parents, and the street I looked out on was only a cardboard construct, or an image against a screen. Life was one elaborate hoax. The world started to spin, and I couldn't breathe the fake air.

If I had to do it again I would, without the rum though.

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then / after