I sometimes come to see the world in a clear light, at least parts of it. I realise that I am trapped in a flesh prison from which I cannot escape. I touch my face, feeling the slight trail of smudge left behind by my fingers. I feel the amalgamation of flesh, fat, and skin hanging off of something I perceived to be mine, realising how little I actually am. I am a being of flesh and bone, yet I am entirely separate from this prison. I touch my face with dread; I barely recognise it.