The possibility that reality is naught
but illusion
That nothing is as it seems
I wander through life with a feel
that’s surreal
Things seem off, like I’m missing
something
I find no clear purpose or goal to aim
my sights to
From no bell does clarity ring
All I have is my visions of dreams
Magic fuels my energy and thought
The stories told through light and
sound
Gives me some taste of what I’ve
sought
This
stagnant world repeats day by day A groundhog effect endlessly sustained Not quite movement or rest in it's shape or form Just some absurd flux maintained
Perhaps that is why people seek out a purpose Solace held in cause or deity Like my dedication to at least be myself My habits of patience, of spontaneity
If this world refuses to push ahead It it refuses to keep itself still Can I be excused from participating? Live my life as I will?
Ignore the petty squabbles of those who seek
gain? Ignore dynamics of superiority? Immerse myself in light and sound abound Read through all but my own story?
But all stories must end after a certain time Else they'd drag into full stagnation That limit of a series' appeal The 12 or 26 episode animation