The Sadness of Reality and the Beauty of Counter-Factuality
A seraphic dimension exists, for us all when we shift our presence from the insipid world that sits before our dreamy eyes. When we take this flight to there where ethereal is our perpetual sight and surreal the time into which we arrive, we take a breath, affirming our endeavours, making it known that life henceforth is the film our minds project and eject the lies we told ourselves.
The lie that reality was the ultimate truth and in reality lay our body and suit.
The lie that we were held captive in the monotony of an everyday iteration, that beyond the day lay the evening sky and the lie that night dawned as we yawned away the life we were gifted to create.
How perfect is the world of our imaginations, how precise the execution of every wishful thought. How colourful the mirrors we seek to reside inside, how peaceful the set upon which we place our acts. How carefully we can edit our eternal film, rewind and play and stay immersed away in paradise.
How beautiful are dreams and how eager their dreamers.
How fulfilling is the world of counter factual thought, then why punish ourselves with half a reality when the whole can be bought?