This is a feeling of unbecoming. A strange feeling of uneasy calm that makes you claw the insides of your head. While you sit, smile, work, go ahead with existence. Don't ask me to explain this place to you. I know I am in it. Like a piercing shard darkness that swipes at the soul. Gradually. At a steady pace. Regularly. So little by little, every passing moment there is so little left of you. A shade. A colour. A feeling. A fleeting touch. A fading memory. I am no longer me. I am terrified. But I am no longer me.