sometimes it seems almost as if nothing is really real. and its during these times when you start to question your own reality. perhaps you are only an illusion while everyone else is real or maybe its the other way around; you are real and they are not. maybe its only when you are surrounded by your fellow illusionist that you are really real at all and so when you run off to join another group it seems as if the thing fabric that covered all the illusions with some sense of reality is torn apart almost violently until finally it is mended and all is right, but still drastically changed. what a funny little paly this is, when you seem to be the lead, without being handed a script at all, or maybe you were, but its for someone else or some other part long past. so what do we do then? with this strange little world we live in? try to survive i suppose...and improvise.
time shifts a bit i think, when you're not looking. one minute you're walking around on the brink of the twenty-first century, feeling perfectly at ease and taking modern conveniences for granted and then the next you're completely and totally amazed by the moon or a flower and you look with contempt at the barbaric metal contraptions rumbling by you on the road, shoving you heartlessly out of the way. and it hurts you to see so much beaty paved over with hard black and grays and tans and you tire of watching fake people with fake emotions delivered to you in your very own home and you long to see a decent play with real actors right there no matter where you have to sit just to have the experience. and then you leave it all behind and run barefoot on the beach, not caring if you get wet and admiring the simple beauty captured in the sunset or a seashell or even a seagull's feather and its there that you embrace something far older and more raw than any human could ever imagine. though its in such moments that you are most human and alive than ever and you long to just have a little piece of it to put in your pocket and take with you always to take out again when everything seems not so right just to remind yourself of what is waiting for you out there and calling to you and so much a part of you. but to your dismay you find that no camera can ever truly capture what your eye can see so you send out your mind and heart and spirit to run hand in hand along the beach collecting little bits of smells and sights and sounds and feelings to keep tucked safe away for future rememberings and when they bring them back you carefully lock them away in red velvet box and turn away to begin the long walk back home again...
©1998 m. hughes
