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The desire of one to live in a fabricated dream world. |
| Whoever said the real deal was to feel real lied. Whoever claimed life had to suck was a sad soul. Life isn't real. Life isn't fun, joy and tears. Life isn't whatever you said. Oh my, why am I here. Life in my dreams is brilliant. Life in the underwater world is a dream come true. What is my life, you ask, if it isn't real? That is my life then, real or fake, it doesn't matter. A faux life. A fake bubble of joy. An untouchable world. A place without fear, hurt and pain. Your world. With wars, poverty, AIDS and suffering. Your world. Where the rich build castles of gold and the poor dig dreams in soil. A place of bombastic lies and metal guns. Children shooting each other, families falling apart. Your world. My world. Does it even matter? I choose my path. I choose to stay shrouded in dreams. In a cotton-candy world where fairytales come true. The flirty, floating clouds, the flitting, fluttering butterflies, the world of hopes and dreams, is it so different from your world really? Your world. My world where the worst thing that can happen is waking up. |