Losing It

Recently reality is increasingly scaring me. Material phenomena is beginning to resemble an onion, with pitiful nondescript layers, inviting me to peel them one by one and uncover complicated subtleties that threaten to burst the marvellous wineskin of illusion that I am convinced our lives are constituted by. It is almost as if a careless utterance, an unintentional glance or a nonchalant gesture by some random person captures a stagnant slice of reality and then proceeds to weave itself into the next fragile layer of the ultimate veil, and when that happens my senses feel derailed, though I may not even be the intended recipient of that slightest hint of communication. The material world as I know it somehow descends into a different, somewhat tinted pasture, and through the willows I vigourously attempt to peek at the elusive face behind the veil. Sometimes I make out most of its ill defined features, sometimes I am bewildered and appalled to find myself glaring into my own cursed physiognomy. Sometimes it becomes the countenance of someone I yearn to embrace, and sometimes the all too familiar saltish tirade of fear desecrates the perfection of my inner place. That's it, the enigma of reality laid bare in a magical moment. Partake with me, of the marvellous stew of love, hatred, fear, bitterness, depression, suffering and transcient alleviation! Find me a refuge in the remnants of your sanity...thus cries my wretched vanity.