Well, nothing's ever perfect - right? And sometimes things just fall apart and sometimes they don't and sometimes it seems like that's exactly what's happening, but it's really a mirage - buildings burning in your imagination when in reality it's all just smoke and mirrors.
Smoke and mirrors...sometimes I wonder if I fashion illusions for myself based upon what I want to see, what I want to think and feel and believe. If I'm willing to accept and believe things I should be wary of, because I'm thirsty for a reality that does not, and will never, exist.
Overly dramatic - grease paint and maudlin sentiments and I've tricked myself into believing I'm trapped inside a theater of the absurd where chiffon got draped over the spotlight and now the entire wretched affair is alight with flames. It's not that bad - nothing's wrong, nothing's right, and in my mind's eye I've created a tragedy.
So which direction, which illusion, to believe? Which is reality, and which is fantasy? Neither, both, a combination of the two most likely. Beset by my own confusions and wonderings, I find that I do not know if I have the strength or desire to triangulate on the truth tonight.
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