How hard is it for you to maintain your mask of sanity in public with other people?
Man it's so hard I tell you what.
so easy, I don't even notice I have one. In fact, I don't think I need one.
i don't go out in public anymore.
No man, I HAVE to go out in public.
It's just, I mean there's only so long I can go before I start talking about how everything is crap.
well if you just hang with others that think everything is crap you'll be fine
i leave my house once every few months and when i'm with my friends i think i do okay (but a little hyper) otherwise I get all depressed
Once every few months?! I'd go on a homicidal rampage if I only got out once every few months.
>>8
I agree. I also only get out once every few months, and go on homicidal rampages daily. Luckily they are on the internet.
Sanity is for.... hm well, sane people. Acting moderateley insane/strange in public is lots of fun.
>>8
Actually, that could have been pushing it. It's more like once every two weeks to tell the truth. Sometimes longer (to a month and a half I think), sometimes shorter.
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I read posts >>5-8 without looking at the dates and thought they were talking about covid lockdowns
I still wear a mask over the mouth because of covid in my area.
Imagine you are having terrible nightmare. It's terrible, but it's terrible only to you and no other. It's a horror custom made for you by your own mind. The content is not important, but the fear is. When you wake, you wake in a room on a bed. It is your bed, but it is not your bed. It is your room, but it is not your room. With effort, you realize you have not awoken at all, but are still asleep and have dreamed of an awakening. The question remains if you are to wake and be greeted with reality, should you get out of bed or go back to sleep. You decide to do both, and you fall backward through the bed as the sheets envelop your body. It's dark, but it's not dark. You're awake, but you're not awake. You are dead and being cremated. As flames disintegrate your flesh, a scream echos through your mind but does not escape your lips which, even if you could speak, have been glued shut. You black out once more, and awaken at dawn. As the mingled ashes of bone and oak are scattered on a beach by the one you've left behind, you finally understand:
You are not the ashes of the man, you are the ashes of coffin. You were not a man dreaming of life, but a tree dreaming you were a man.
This awakening, this epiphany... this is salvia.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ak_sLfawu4
No one cared who I was until I put on the mask