2023 is definitely a year for the unexpected. A year I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for many reasons. And most of all, I’ve learnt what it is to be, you.
The mind’s a powerful thing. Organ in fact. Almost like an orchestra playing to your tune, with your role as conductor. Once that beat is out of sync, the string snaps or you’re off key, that’s it. The silence fills the room, sole instrument. More noticeable than what you heard prior. No conductor needed. You fill in the gaps.
As humans, learning what’s right from wrong is vital. Truth from fiction. But when that’s relayed to us, opposing the somewhat simulated reality we’ve created for ourselves, let’s pause the narrative whilst we edit the script. These new crucial details which discredit everything we thought we once knew to be true, cannot be right. But the slight chance it is? I’ll take a chill pill to refer back to numb the reality my unconscious mind has been exposed to. Encroaching and invading my space; mental infestation. Washed away with 240ml, neurons suppressed, feeling refreshed. The orchestra resumes, quieter but still loud enough to deafen what needs to be blurred out. Closing your eyes, head in the clouds, breeze brushing against your skin rushing through your hair.
The sense of control, the reality, not being the truth as we know it. A dial you’re able to turn back. A combination to deception.
But are our brains always the problem, or is it us? How we decipher fact from fiction – stemming from the nurture phase?
I’ve realised, life is like a game of musical chairs. The music will play continuously, and you will always have a choice. Whether you make the right one, is yet to be seen. But what I do know, is that there will always be one individual standing, and one seated. The picture may differ, according to mood, drug, time, age or interpretation. But as the clarity gradually sharpens, the vivid colouring clearer than 4k could ever depict. Unobtainable, similar to a Picasso painting. Your attempts to taint it, I’ll forever recall. The view you portray is then just an opinion, opposing the factual reality. Then you realise just how irrelevant your portrayal really is.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust; flatline speaks more truth than you do.
Photoshop, tippex, even shredding makes it more palatable. But you’ve made one little mistake. Public records are shielded from your vandalism. Blood shed, isn’t always bad. Once stained, there’s no turning back.
I see your game. I have more pieces than what’s needed to complete this puzzle. Keep running though, because the truth is always that one step ahead. I’ll give you a head start though, seem like you need it.
In the words of Dionne Warwick,
“A chair is still a chair,
Even when there’s no-one sitting there.”
Does your mind play tricks, or does the truth look like a hallucination?
You decide.
Enjoy the encore, the baton was transferred while you were waiting for the music to stop.
I would say take a seat, but none remain. I’m sure your vivid imagination will create one.
Unscramble? Deal.
Beauty File 