Self of mind

I can't help but feel like it's way to unreal. I can focus but I'm trapped in a state of psychosis. A warped mind due to the climate change. A twisted plot, or so the thought got framed. Rearranged, misplaced scattered about. Empty of substance, hunger walking about. Notable, memorable regardless of worth. swings leaving divets in the turf. Damaged, tarnished,harnessed and garnished. Frightful feelings of nothing but carnage. Simplicity missed and complexity hits. A time to dwell as if all that exists. No reasons to try to further explain. Nothing wild in deed gets tamed.