Illusions

Illusions. They’re everywhere. Everyone we meet, everything we see – they all cast them. Its hard sometimes to discern what is real and what is not – depending on how good the illusions are, and more importantly how good you are at finding them.

I cast them every day; several times a day in several different ways. We all do. Its in our nature. People who know me pretty well will see through some. People that know me very well will see through most. But no one will see through all. I don’t do it to hide who I am (those people are the ones you need to worry about) – I do it to project whatever aspect of myself is best suited to any given situation. Well, ok, there are times I do it to hide, but that’s a tale for another day.

There are those few that use illusions to make you believe that what you see is real, when in fact they are anything but what you see. And there are those that cast them to make themselves believe that what they show is real. These are the hardest illusions to see through, for if the projector believes what they say, their lie is hard to detect.

I was in a situation not too long ago where I watched as the illusions that surrounded another person fell to pieces. Right in front of my eyes. It reminded me of an episode of How I Met Your Mother. Each time someone’s annoying habit was pointed out, the sound of glass shattered above the heads of everyone else in the room. They had not noticed these traits in each other before, but once pointed out, they were obvious to all. I felt the exact same way that day.

And then there you are, staring at what you always considered to be real when *poof* - it’s gone. And once they are all gone, once every illusion is shattered, there is the face unveiled. And all you can do at that point is hope that what you reveal is not ugly.

My Pen

I like my pen right now. It feels right. I’ve nothing to say really; nothing to write about, and if I do write I won’t be saying anything at all. That’s mainly because I’m not in the mood to say anything – I’m in the mood to un-say things. 

And when I’m in that mood I just spin in circles around an infinite black hole – and very few would appreciate that journey, for it really is a pain in the ass ride with no destination and no ultimate end.

But my pen…my pen suggest that something needs to be said. So I feel I must write something. So let’s see…

It is the ride less ridden that is more enjoyable. This is so because that sensation is never overloaded. Now this isn’t to take away from the joy of the more common rides in your life. You just have to remember, life isn’t about having the best all the time – it’s about making the best out of everything you have.

Bleah!

That Being Said...

Well for those who were following along, I’m not going to finish the story I was telling…not here anyway. What started as an experiment has grown into a tale that will be chasing its end for awhile. But finish it I will, and I’ll let you know when I do.

And here’s a shout out to my muse who laughed at me when I said it was going to be a short story. As usual, you were right. J

I will now take you back to my regularly scheduled program, which is neither regular nor a program, but you get my meaning.

Until next time…here are some thoughts:

When the music is playing, why can’t we help but dance when we pass by a mirror?

The house you buy when you are young will one day become grandma/pa’s house – to someone else.

Some girls tend to quit shaving when they aren’t with a guy – or when they’ve been with one that long.