Temporary Revelation

"And when we touch we are not really touching if our atoms did not repel one another we'd pass through each other like galaxies unscathed."

Improve On An Example

Sometimes this place scares me beyond all rationalism, and even my brand new overpriced headphones cannot keep the world around me out of my head. Like some kind of sponge I suck up every impulse of my senses, then analyse and twist it around enough 'till I can only see its most monstruous face grinning at me. And yet never do I feel more distant from everything than at those moments.
I grew up with the love and caring only those flashy cartoons can give you at 5am on saturdaymorning. When I got older I started to look at my heroes and heroïnes one after the other, and I cannot explain in any way how deeply hurt I was and still am to witness their begging hands beneath their supermancostumes, as much victims of this unsatiable thirst as anyone. Meaninglessness doesn't cut as much as it sweeps away the solid ground you thought you were standing on.
But then there's always this little voice in the back of my head, and through the assaults of noise and whatnot on my senses it urges me to wait for what is real, however long it takes, whatever places it might bring us to. What else should we fucking do?