"The way to be is to do." Confucius
A blanket magically casts a shadow over the eyes—they begin to fall. The mouth, uncontrollably open, releases a slow expulsion of air. The body, twisting and turning, strives to push the soul out of this terrestrial bound. The world as we know it begins to retreat: sights become blurs, sound becomes white noise, touch is desensitized, smell and taste cease to exist. Nothing is in focus, everything is hazy. And yet… everything is correct. We have arrived at the realm in between. Consciousness has not been regained, but neither is it lost.