Definitely feeling weird and crazy, but not in a bad way. Experiencing the good side of mental illness. Earlier I heard my inner monologue speaking to me from a styrofoam head sitting in my kitchen. But I liked what it was saying. Even now my mind or soul or whatever it is keeps escaping my surroundings, my reality. This shitty desert with its shitty stickers and cactuses everywhere. I'm running through the woods, but not out of fear or in a panic. Instead I'm carelessly full of joy and laughter, running through trees on dark soil and grass. I love the fact that I can escape the awful things about my surroundings into my imagination. Almost like my mental illness is advantageous at times