Abracadabra!

I'm dressed like a stage magician, and my pupils are the size of moons. There's a crow's wing feather in the brim of my top hat, and I'm about to make myself disappear.

Something in the back of my head is terrified right now, a petulant little thing that doesn't want to surrender control. It gets in my way when I swallow poisons, but I'm beginning to suspect it's been more of a problem than that. Have I had one foot firmly planted in reality this whole time? How embarrassing. I'll soon fix that. Watch: a perfectly ordinary hat, correct? And empty? Completely. Wait 'til you see what I pull out of it.

Ta da.