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I used to be here. Then I was somewhere else; now I'm not there any longer, and I'm not sure I'm here, either. I'm definitely more here than there, though -- assuming I exist at all, which I may well not.
I wish I could call it an 'impostor' with a clear conscience, but unfortunately it is all too real. It is not only my nightmare, but the nightmare of many. If the nightmare belongs to so many, it can no longer be a nightmare; it is reality, and calling it by any other name cannot mitigate the horror of it.
The day I will go back is the day when hell will freeze over. I mean that more literally than one might suppose.
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