find a sense of self in an alternate place (familiar but distant), transport elsewhere to a memory or passage, a person or a moment or a wish. being there without being there in itself a weird safe zone but addictive, not to mention easy and fleeting.

even the way it affects my mood and the people around me or at least my perception of them and the humor comes easy and the anger absorbs into the dim bar light and the desire tickles fetish and the growing flicker is devilish in my eyes or so i am told and i know the transitory nature of being and of time and of place and it’s alright.

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