I have these moments, you know?

It's not like they're super important, character-defining moments, either. They're just... moments. Normal, everyday seconds in time where I feel sort of vague and abstract about things-- like I'm not myself. Like I'm a third person narrator, telling some invisible audience what is going on-- what's running through my mind, or someone else's mind. It's just a weird feeling. Like the universe tilts and I'm the only one that feels it. I don't mean to sound all depressed and melodramatic, but describing it is really hard. As I'm writing this I feel like I'm trying to pin a cloud to a piece of paper.

And that doesn't really work, obviously.

So I'm sort of stuck for words, which is a total rarity in my case, as I'm fully one of the most verbose people in the world. Mentally, that is. I'm verbose, yes, witty to a fault (just kidding), but painfully shy sometimes. And this universe tilt, this cloud-pinning I've been experiencing-- it's just not the kind of thing one brings up in casual conversation.

"Sorry, hate to interrupt, but did you notice that the universe just tilted forty degrees?"

Uh, sorry, but no. It just seems simpler to write it up and make that fictional audience of mine into you, a real person. Right? Right.