Daily Meh is an edited stream of consciousness, by Simen.

As soon as I came out of the hotel—Yes, now I think I have found the right words. I hasten to write them down before they fade. When I came out onto the street, I suddenly saw the world as it really is. You see, we find comfort in telling ourselves that the world could not exist without us, that it exists only inasmuch as we ourselves exist, inasmuch as we can represent it to ourselves. Death, infinite space, galaxies, all this is frightening, exactly because it transcends the limits of our perception. Well—on that terrible day when, devastated by a sleepless night, I stepped out into the center of an incidental city, and saw houses, trees, automobiles, people, my mind abruptly refused to accept them as “houses,” “trees,” and so forth—as something connected with ordinary life.

My line of communication with the world snapped, I was on my own and the world was on its own, and that world was devoid of sense. I saw the actual essence of all things. I looked at houses and they lost their usual meaning—that is, all that we think when looking at a house: a certain architectural style, the sort of rooms inside, ugly house, comfortable house—all this had evaporated, leaving nothing but an absurd shell, the same way an absurd sound is left after one has repeated sufficiently long the commonest word without heeding its meaning: house, howss, whowss. It was the same with the trees, the same with people. I understood the horror of a human face.

Excerpt from Nabokov’s short story “Terror”, via Steve Dekorte. The only online version I could find was this.

It’s a fantastic and frightening description of depersonalization. The feeling of detachment from your own mirror image described in the beginning of this story is something I’ve felt myself, but thankfully, I’ve never experienced what the protagonist experiences in the above quote.