It's easy. So painfully, bitterly easy to fall back into it again. Everything around you is bright and plain but you can't see it that way anymore. The wall is a grid. An obstacle in your path. The lamp glows bright to prevent you from seeing the monsters in the dark. The blue sky is a cheap illusion. You've learned to do what normal people do: sleep at night and function during the day. But that isn't you. You is the person who stays up until 4 a.m. creating universes in your head. The one who sees tentacles winding out of the closet. Sees non-human eyes blinking at you from dark corners. Explores tiny planets in your dreams. The one who knew too much and couldn't figure out why others didn't understand. And you've missed this. For that brief time you were learning to be normal, the creatures have eagerly awaited your return. Feed them. Your lack of attention has left them ravenous. Your inky thoughts stain the air around you. It's pulling you down again, and you love it. Why did you ever think otherwise?