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She does not live in a state of bliss, though she feels herself moving towards one, or towards something. She doesn't know what it is but it is the way she has to go, the journey towards it is the only life she enjoys. It is hard yet exciting, satisfying, lonely, joyous, frustrating, puzzling, enlightening, real. It is her life, and she's diggin it right now.

There is a difference between dreaming and pretending. I did not find paradise, it was only a reflection of my lonely mind searching. Yes, a heart can hallucinate, can even make monsters seem like angels from above, but you opened up my eyes. Dreaming is a good thing because it brings new things to life. Pretending is an ending that perpetuates a lie, forgetting what you are, seeing for what you've been told, and growing up is not the absence of dreaming. It's being able to understand the difference between the ones you can hold and the ones you've been sold.

You are an individual, a particular extension, an extremity. You are defined by your own conception of you. Through your subconscious, you have access to all. You are a sensitive instrument. At any given moment you can feel what's right and do it. It requires no effort on your part. It is what you were designed to do, it is you. No one else is the same person, and nowhere else is the same moment. You are a piece of equipment. Can you see, or hear a voice? Then you can feel what's right. Each human is an island, we are all one being. Alone, cut off, distant, full of the pain of the distance, reaching out every moment to ease loneliness, becoming ever more conscious of being alone, moving heaven and earth to fill that empty place of the heart that is always deepest just at the right moment you think you've finally filled it. It is absurd, unbearable, the force that keeps us going, the meaning of life. We are all one being, nothing more, nothing less. We are each alone, cut off from our own self by oceans of distance. Struggling for awareness, but blinded by terror. Desperate for peace, but unable to rest. Each human is an island. Each island is an extension of the same planet.


Alone, wondering what life could be like. Outside our mind, the sudden reality and nothing is like what you imagined. Picturing everything so perfectly, like a fairy tale. It's just a little game inside our brain. Nothing is ever enough... Only in our head. Mind regresses from what is real. Hidden by what we don't realize. Blinded by what could be the beginning of our unknown reality, filled with desires we've wanted for so long. It's always different from what we expected.