i'm stuck in worlds that resemble the real by 99%. but it's that last 1% that'll kill ya. and wouldn't you know it comes up every time. look at me, i'm the exception that proves the rule. sometimes i love it here. sometimes i'm visited by ghosts and we spend some time here in this strange bubble. sometimes i can just sit there, feeling the warmth for a while. and remember what it's like to have another heartbeat so nearby. but then the bubble bursts. and we're back at 100. and the ghosts are gone. and the room is warmer than i remember it being. and the one percent bitch slaps me.
i don't mean to travel dimensions. and i'd stop if i knew how.

posted by adam @ 9:54 PM