The morning after it happened for the first time, I--
I’m not sure if I should tell you, but maybe you can tell me. If your understanding of reality fundamentally changes, does it change you?
And how responsible am I for who you become?
I don’t know.
And that relative state of not knowing is the start of my conundrum. And my conflict.
The morning after it happened for the first time, I woke up with half of my soul hanging out of my body. The worst case of pins and needles possible. The pain was a soft plodding ache, but it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. It hurt.
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