All too often this twisted tale of duality gone amok remains unrecognized as such, and belief becomes optional. When senses serve reality, we enslave ourselves voluntarily. There may not be much freedom in this mortal coil, but what is there is choice. The madcap laughs understanding nothing is perfect. Meantimes, we find ourselves heavily pursuing some logical framework to explain situations that have no more complexity than a single flap of a butterfly's wing. Soon, our thoughts turn to silent prayer that our struggle is not in vain. Our case of mistaken identity becomes clear. 'Tis a wicked web that ensnares it's maker, 'tis.
Laughing in the sunshine
Crying in the rain
It's often a thin line
Between pleasure and pain
Working for a living
Giving all you got
Of time we're spending
Being what we're not
Dancing under starlight
Sleeping until noon
What is wrong or right
Only phases of the moon
Kissing in the middle
Of an apocalypse
Nero with his fiddle
Couldn't care less
" Avoid eye contact, kiss."
- Mason Cooley
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