Stuck in a world of chapters an wonders all of which dictate my life which doesn’t sound all that right but it’s the way stories are crafted.
Out of magical plants and superb penmanship outlining and ending lives, emotions, visions and journeys.
All for the worlds we hallucinate from dead tress and glass screens possibly the only thing that’s concrete to which the mind can see, don’t understand me?
Maybe you should try and take a peak at what’s really happening in your reality.
Perhaps then you’ll “see” it’s just another whimsical fantasy. «Don’t forget to breathe»