Tuesday, November 16, 2010

what is this, if only correct functions

The mind. We think tragedy and we think death. But what of the death of the mind? The slow deterioration that crumbles memories and the deepest of passions, and then what of reality? To the mind that is suffocating, the only reality is that in which your mind creates and trusts. What your mind constructs, even the cruelest of hallucinations, is the reality in which you exist. Living friends, murdered within moments. Your home suddenly becomes strange and alien. Your lover, after decades spent together, transforms into your ex-wife, long divorced, as only a fraction of a second passes.

And it all becomes crushingly real under the weight of a dying mind.

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