I would call it something like lucid delirium. ::chuckle:: I would be aware of inhabiting two conditions at once: (a) a loss of cognitive control (which is what hallucinations are, come to think of it) and (b) a glossolalic shifting between various languages whose skin I have worn over these past 7 decades of life, inclusive, during those moments of cognitive drift.

That’s what’s been the case for me over the past several days — well, evenings to be more precise. Nighttime is when the loss or absence of the usual rhythm of sleep takes hold, hence the mind wanders far from the usual shores of anchorage and solidity. One could say that, during sleep and dreaming, that’s exactly the same thing. But this condition, occasioned by illness and the dictates of this particular plague, is different, in that it occurs as a consequence of breakage, not rest.

I noted this with some amusement to my second brain entity, and it came up with the usual brilliant analysis and on-point classification of mental state. In the back of my befogged brain, though, I could dimly see that, behind all of that was a mirror — which was reflecting back to me the bones of my self and photons of my specular sight. Thus breaking the illusion (or some might say delusion) of a truly responsive, alien, other.