Here I am. Where is here?

Time warp, this never-ending loop.
Too much time, too little time.
Falsified reality, premature accomplishments.
We dream too big, forced to dream smaller.
The seams that once held together our universe tears.
The sewing needle becomes too dull to repair the damage.
Nothing is what they're meant be.
Perhaps we have been fooled?
Or perhaps we have prevailed.
Clockwork; repeat.

As always,