I'm actually the opposite - I don't like the Realms.They lie.
Overhead, beyond the lunar sphere, It occupies all space, horizon to horizon, coils humping, writhing, tentacles extended in questing eye-tongues wrapped around every star in the sky. A cosmically coiling mass of churning flesh, at its center there shines a unblinking, universe-encompassing eye of black un-light and eternity. With the right magic, you see It, and It sees you.
It rushes down not at the speed of light, but infinitely faster, with the speed of darkness. The eye-tongue passes the lunar sphere like a forgotten dream. It ignores the mountains spiking into it, the covenant's towers, the people staring at you. The eye settles on you, just you, its weight crushing you, its foul cold substance pushing and entering you, then withdrawing as fast as it had come. It leaves your body broken on the ground, mind shattered. It recedes far years and decades away because it found you, tasted you, and you are nothing.
But you're not insane. There is no insanity. It is everywhere. It is what makes the night sky spin. It is the imbalance in the humours, the laughter in the dark. If you don’t know that, if you don’t feel it in your blood and marrow, you don’t know anything.
Reality is an insignificant scum floating on an ocean of chaos. There is no God, nothing solid, nothing of us that’s real. Only It is real: The mad, unseen everything, the weight of night.