The Return Journey

I smelled rust and woke up in a blue and white checkered cage. Escape is the only instinct, and returning home is the only belief left. But every time I pry open the shackles of reality, I seem to fall into another, deeper maze. …Are they my nightmare, or a stairway to the truth? When the door of "home" closes behind me, what I hear is a call of warmth, or is it the prelude to a cycle? This is a heroic expedition in the labyrinth of self-awareness. The body's return journey passes through the sea of ​​stars, and the spirit's return journey passes through despair. When the boundary between virtuality and reality completely melts, do you have the courage to personally uncover the starting point of the loop?