In my mind I’ve laid down tracks;
I’ve built up trains of thought.
At a snails pace they crawl along,
gradually picking up speed:
Now all my trains are racing,
racing towards some grandiose climax.
Through the window, the world is a blur,
Nothing feels real anymore,
my family and friends are just neat ideas.
My mind is starting to create its own world
to escape into.
I know I’m heading for a horrible collision;
Stoke the engine! Faster, faster!
I must see this path through to the end!
I must have my unique undoing!
Then, and only then,
will I finally tear away the layers of my mask,
unravel myself from the mummy cloth,
and choose to live again.