Illusion
I woke up screaming once more of another once more. I had the dream again, bringing
back memories, and feelings of distress, grief, and unremitting pain. It's storming again,
loud bolts of light rolling on and on in a continuous pattern like life, and death; age, and
time. Age is an illusion, something time chewed up and spat out like a piece of gum on
the evolutionary highway. Time is irrelevant, it only tells what it wants, until life runs out
yesterday, only to give birth to the idea of "new" life today, and to die tomorrow.
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