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Page One: To the Real Reality

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The day of the parade was a beautiful one. The sky was a pearly blue, surreal, with milky sheep clouds opening into the palms of the sun. Multi-colored people filled the square into a ruly crowd milling about.

She wanted nothing more to do with standing in place just to see the red balloons fly by. Waking up in the earliest early morning just to stand around with people hardly smelling any better than her mother’s laundry was not what she wanted out of the day. There were more things to think about than the psychopathic need to socialize with the one to many in a circle crammed together within a small square.

What could have been better than basking in the moldy sunlight whispering on skin ready to burn for more than eternity under its wings? Time would not pass fast enough for the moments imbibed with merriment and no useful cheer.

The pout on her face was buried under humanities need to feel special one days when there was nothing to feel worth for. The eventuality of the suddenly eventual superstition coming from a hive minded decision to please when there is no real need to please. What could have been better than to stand in place for mind numbing hours on end just to watch what would have happened on any other given day? What?

Opening up the heart to putrid smells of inhuman emotions to satisfy the inhumanity of man against men and women was the norm of the day. Many other things, works, frivolities could be accomplished, but no one seemed to have more than a care.

What should have been free was never enough. What could have been bought was not in the price range of a budget that never existed in the first place. This coming together to pretend that nothing has ever happened was not a believable ploy. This false enjoyment of what can be and what could have been blinds the rest from what will be.

During the openings, brief as they may be, a ray of darkness slips into the mortal coiled consciousness unable to break free. Tangled together without cause to share the shape lived in was the ultimate torture for one seeking release during a time of withheld freedoms and whims. Shackle the hand that feeds the masses and send them out to watch the red balloons fly into a sky no longer easily recognizable in the maze taken for granted.

Is that what this is all for? She asked around for no one to answer. There was no real need to move from the place she had stood hours on end with out the coming end in sight. What do you need to see anyway? She mumbles to herself knowing that everyone will hear her during the worse moment.

Would you? Really would you? Touch the one taboo that unwilling people see within themselves. In the projection that called life into matter, would it really need to be finite in the infinite consciousness before all that we stand for? Come around and see the corner bend toward a street no one walks.

Cross the crossroads and count to four. Holding your breath once in a while will help stop your beating head. Bang your heart on concrete trees and tear your feet on cool ice. Can that really happen when there is nothing that is real in this reality we call a life waiting around watching out for things that might not happen, happen? Think about it for a moment, she thought as she looked around a crowd contented with standing in place without the need to neither move nor speak.

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