I live in a false reality. I live in a world of dreams, and I have created them all. I am too afraid of normality, and yet I have wasted my dreams on rocks that crumble. I am sea fisherman stuck in a puddle. I can find beauty in the sunshine and happiness in a fleeting moment of love for some passion of mine, but everything I am passionate about is too far out of reach. Do I reach anyway and die trying? I've launched a cycle in my life, and yet I base even that cycle on two experiences. That's like calling a line two points that connect. Sure, it's a line, but as soon as another point is added that skews away from the pattern, what line do you have then?
Is it better to live in a world of dreams and creations, deceiving myself but living with passion, or is it better to accept a dull reality in which I am just another face on this fucking planet?