ACRONYMS
Are these souls? are these people real? I throw, immediately they leave my sight, they disappear into thin air. I believe since I'm the main character in this fucking big cinema, these are extras to make me feel I am not alone, they are all virtual, not real, I can't grasp a begining, a middle or an end to them. Come to think of it, I can't even grasp an end for myself.
From the woman selling tomatoes by the road side with the baby on her back, who is crying and his nose drooling, to the conductor screaming at the top of his voice, calling out for more extras to entre his bus, all seem fake. I wonder what Angel is the casting director, because I could do a pretty good job about the face of this lady with black jeans and a crop top, fine skin, beautiful body, lovely dimensions, but disastrous on the face. It pains me, but hey, she's not real either.
I believe I'll wake up one day from this, wake into peace, wake into... Nirvana.
To cap it up, I am the only real thing I know of, and the world, water, space, humans, all elements for my purpose.
Mirage on the road. Two hands, two legs, they talk, like me... Who created this? How dare you put me with these creatures. No beginning, middle or ending. It's just a show, a big show I am made to walk in.
Whose who, where's where, yet, someone is up there, laughing at my pain.
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