Is the truth stranger than fiction?
Welcome to the honest, revealing state of mind that is the dreaming imagination of the examined human consciousness. Are will and truth stranger than fiction? Does my imagination lay me still at night? Days in the ether of my non communicative dormant ideas, why does this state transpire to the years in which I wish to convey to my fellow people a message? These concepts I want to set free upon the world to do a just cause for the waiting of that daydream over a perfect non-forced event in my life-long quest to meet my reflection of soul. It’s my desire in the design of this reality to go forward in mind but yet I’m in a reversal of a normal state for the constant search, silenced by strangers in this fictional rendering in my mind.
Truth maybe that they had made all of our souls equal in love at birth but in the events of our lives, memories, illnesses and states of existent terms of environmental effects and changes. Thru our want and needs for familiarity of admiration of that truth in someone or something strange. Strange is it? Yes. Delusional to think we set all our truths in stone? Possibly, the fact of the matter is that I seek a change in others will, to be outgoing and reflect my inner desire to communicate on levels within day dreams of single songs singing a muse. The Truth is hard to change myself even in the fictional construct of the illusion I make within my mind it seems, if I can only be my best in a balance of yin and yang to make even with my time in this sobering bought of mixed variables of depression and happiness. I have equality in my torments that are so strange to some who I don’t even know the opinion of but I will prevail over my fictional rendering of their thoughts and opinions.
I must take hold of this boundary of fiction and mold it into my truth of reality, to use my imagination and creative abilities to best entertain my wills design, to become a story of my way, odd, fictional and true in a life.
