To this earth, I remain physically attached, but my spirit feels ejected.

Some may say that I’ve relapsed, but to the metaphysical, they’re disconnected.

I rapidly pace back and forth to match the tempo of my racing mind.

I’m transfixed by a star to the north, as I experience spiritual energy of a new kind.

Objects in my vision appear the same, but my perception has been rearranged, twisted, and contorted.

I extract profound insight from the previously mundane, as my conception of the extraordinary is distorted.

The arrangement of chairs and the coincidental alignment of blank stares appear to bear messages.

About what others will think, I am determined not to care, as I exercise new supernatural privileges.

Seemingly, without limit, I purchase and I spend because the world, I once knew, has come to an end.

Ignoring the advice others lend, I experience a break with reality, one that I hope will be impossible to mend.

As my spirit rapidly shifts and mutates, they say my evolution will not be televised.

But, while my psychic morphing accelerates, I feel broadcast to the sky’s omnipresent eyes.