And yet you did not choose me blindly. Certain expectations were aroused. Let’s not be coy: you were hoping I would satisfy all the desires you’re too shy to name, or at least show you a good time. Now you hesitate, still holding on to me, but tempted to let me go. When you first picked me up, you didn’t fully appreciate the size of me, nor did you expect I would grip you so tightly, so fast. Sleet stings your cheeks, sharp little spits of it so cold they feel hot, like fiery cinders in the wind. Your ears begin to hurt. But you’ve allowed yourself to be led astray, and it’s too late to turn back now.
Michel Faber, The Crimson Petal and the White
You live in a world of dreams, you thieved me into it, let me thrive until there was no place left for the real me. At first I didn't realise it, but then I smiled because I'm an experienced escapist myself, and so, at least, we shared realms not rooted to the ground.