i am in a slight sliver of time before i unwillingly slip back into my habits. Although i am not usually opposed to what i do, i am also able to recognize at some parts that what i do on a daily basis is not healthy or normal. im never quite sure what to make of this human experience, and im afraid i might be teetering on the edge of a long, winding spiral spinning me further around decreasingly into my consciousness that of which is my own. These days im unable to differentiate whether or not my current reality is real, although i am capable of being aware it is increasingly difficult to understand just what i am entirely. in my following years of older adolescence i am ashamed to admit that i am not sure i can claim to be real. although this body is breathing and this heart pumps blood and i can even feel my skin it’s a tad shameful to admit i feel as if im wearing someone elses body and lifethese days there is very little evidence or rather none at all that im sure will prove i am real; although i am aware there isn’t any sort of real thing left in life. my mind continues aimlessly, i trudge forward endlessly in the spiral of what is human existence, further and further and deeper and deeper into the golden angle of my very essence. somewhere deep inside my being, being kept secret from the mind, i am sure i know exactly what it means for a thing such as me to be living this mundane life. Down to the very energy that exists somewhere in this sack of meat and bones i feel like im being heavily tricked; lied to. usually it is easier on most days to ignore this gnawing feeling at my soul but i attest that it very well may be rutting deep into my core. i am not quite sure if anything is real anymore, let alone even my own consciousness.