it is all so tangible, so textured and present i am there, in a way that is never true in reality the shape and structure of the world fill my head to bursting and it is like i have always been in the city, though i have no memory of it
it is real and it is there and it carries the weight of millennia of history layered atop itself, curling in and around, cracked and leaning and beautiful
the real world, by comparison, is this flat, contextless thing, made abstract beyond the limits of human habitation