As the Gamma Rays sank in he knew he was lost. The bar was a reproduction of the bar in his head, as everything always is. The old him was not the same him standing among the dancers either, that skin had long been shed. The past and the present are never the same, to return to the past is only to witness the present. And so he danced until his feet went dead. It was all one could do.
And one thought is always in his head.
‘Where am I?’
Every minute, every day. It keeps him from losing himself.
Oh, let me lose myself.