Sometimes my mind goes somewhere else. I’m here. I’m present, but I’m also there. I can’t tap into that part of my brain. I feel disconnected, like the things I’m seeing aren’t real. Maybe it’s the space-time continuum, or maybe it’s a daily existential crisis. But I know that part of me exists in another place. I can’t access it, but I can feel it. I don’t know what Pink Floyd was talking about; I’m uncomfortably numb.