Sometimes life events give me psychological whiplash. People moving in so many directions. Time and space grant more clarity. The noise fades and nothing remains but those memories. Little glimpses of connections between people, actions, and emotions. The sensation of sleepwalking is replaced by an edge so sharp. 

Reality seems like a dance of spectors, people moving and chanting. All the right words at all the right times and so long as we're moving in time, the narrative can be selected like multiple choice. But the moment a dancer falls out of step, the mirage melts away.