I have no sense of time.

I have no sense of space.

The world is plasmatic; just beyond my fingertips.
I observe from a distance the spinning of it on its axis;
my eyes jump from here to there, never truly fixated on
anything, just barely masking the incessant turning of my stomach. 

Everyone else here is free to mold their Earth; but I am trapped
within myself, unable to experience life in the moment.

I am immersed in the air carried on the cries of  thousands.

Thousands who are created, will create, will live, and will die.

Thousands of sheep.

Their world is encased in light; shrouded in gold.

Masked.

Is living unmasked worth the distemperment of reality?

I should like to think yes.