Feeling like you are the only person in the world, like the rest of this place is made just for you. All that you see is a big setup, with intricate details, like the old huts, the LED tickers, all these commuters and vendors. The feeling of being detached, everything you see isn't what you thought it was. You lose track of reality and time, that something is quite not right. You realize and find everything to be strange, compelling to end this world in some way, like them taking over and burning everything down. That this whole thing was for you alone.
Spirals of white smoke and charred remains that makes you go places, to be there and to be never. You exist because of them, they are your life. You remove one by one, like you remove the bricks from your face, till that fades into thin air. You understand what it is to be wrong, when you thought it couldn't get any better. An explosia, a drum roll and voila. A dragon with no fire and a khaki-trousered-crazy. Where faint was a lifestyle, where you speak through veils and forget about the rest. And you thought this couldn't get any better? Right.
But this was strange enough, happening too fast that you don't even get time to take everything in. Constant, where there was no sense of mind. Or maybe this was what you were supposed to be. You find simple things to be the most fun. You find happiness and that alone. You forget that this world isn't real. You live inside that happiness, this small world, the simple one. Would you make this permanent?