Fantasy...Reality

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Fantasy…Reality

All the world is a stage
And all the people the actors
All the world is a game
And all the people the players.

Both of these are correct.
But only one is real.
One of them is a fantasy
Fastened in our peripheral.

We focus on the fantasy,
Live inside a dream
Ignore the reality
That is less than what it seems.

One of them is a mask we wear,
For so long that we can't feel it,
While the reality creeps over our shoulder
And when we least expect it…

Shatters…
Like an evil villain destroying our fantasy
obliterated
Our world is cast into reality.

What we used to think
Is gone
What we used to see
Is gone.

Now the reality is in our vision
And we do not like what we see
For the control that the fantasy gives us
Doesn’t exist in reality.

The laws…
Are gone
The chains…
Are gone.

But we never wanted them to be.
No, happy are we to be living
Healthily
In fantasy.

Is the world a stage?
Where lights twinkle and happily ever afters are found?
Is the world a game?
A bloodthirsty and constantly competitive ground?

Is the world what you make of it?
Do we truly have a choice?
Maybe, maybe not,
But we do have a voice.

Mine will be heard.
The world is a game
And there is a Game master
And rules as we play.

There's also a false one
Who revisions it as a stage
He tries to change us into actors
So we will revoke the game.

He's already lost
He knows it
Still he fights
To pull all of us down with him.

The Game master plays with a heavy heart
As he watches us day by day
We try to fight and climb and claw
Through the endless maze.

It's worse when the false one comes
And tries to change us
Force us to see something that we’re not,
Under the pretense of "freeing us."

What is freedom?
I believe it is in bondage.
Because either you will tie yourself to freedom
And make yourself a hostage

Of something with no direction
No way to get you out
Forever lost in a maze
Lost in a sea of doubt.

Or you choose to be in bondage
Then the question is "to what"
Or who or whom or whose or whatever
Whether you agree or not.

So is the world a stage
Where the play's already written
And the false one is leading
The lambs to be smitten

With destruction in the game?
Or does each move we make
Is known but unknown
With each step we take?

I've chosen my path
The path of the slave
I've heard I'm wrong for choosing my Master
As I hurt others in the game.

They think I'm doing it on purpose
And while I am I’m not.
I can't be sorry for what I do
For I am not in the wrong.

I am a slave that follows my Master
Does that mean I have no choice?
What is choice
But a figment of imagination to deploy

False wisdom.
I believe wisdom is in ignorance.
A child is the wisest in the world
When they haven't the faintest.

We teach them our ways
Try to make them "smarter"
But year by year and by and by
Their vision gets clouded…their hearts grow fainter.

They lose the part of them that should be treasured,
The greatest wisdom of all
They fall into the game
And must run it like all

Of us.
A course that can't be changed
I can do nothing but watch
This horrible little game.

Was it the Game Master who made it?
Yes and no.
He was the one who designed it
But not the one who began the show.

That belongs to the false one.
Who wanted to be in control
Disturbed us in our happy game
Stole us as actors in his pitiful show

Tied us up, made us puppets
Told us to pretend the chains weren't there
Placed masks on our faces to hide us
Gave us false names to bear.

The Game master can do nothing but watch
For He gave us free will
As much as we bond ourselves to something
He bonds himself to us too.

But then there are people that realize,
When the fantasy is shattered
They see the game pieces lying on the board
They learn what truly matters.

Not attraction
Not wisdom
Not choice
But bondage.

Love in bondage
That's how I call it
I wrap myself tight in His chains
Give Him the strings to be His puppet.

But He does not take them
Unlike the false one He's not that cruel
No crueler still He tells me to choose
And live with my free will.

“Take it!” I shout
But He is relentless
Never shall He take it
Nor shall I resent it

It’s both a blessing and a curse,
I've learned by living here
For I can see two worlds
And I know which one to fear

And live in.
So I climb off the stage
The people tell me I'm wrong
They tell me I'm deranged.

Call me crazy. Call me foolish
Call me nothing but a slave.
But while I choose the reality to live in
You are the puppets that are truly enslaved.

You believe that you are free?
Hah! I laugh at you
With tears in my eyes I laugh
Because you cannot see what is true

And what is lies.

You attach yourselves with labels.
Make it so that's how you act
Change yourselves to fit an image
In a mirror that is cracked.

And the mask lies atop your face
And the lights flash in front of the stage
And you paste a smile on your face
Ignore the truth that this is really a game.

You know the truth.
Deep in your heart you know
But you fight back from what it really is,
Decide to go with the flow

I never go with the flow
Maybe before but not now
Not now that I know the truth
And I see the war around

Me.
That is the final conclusion
Why do we choose to live in fantasy
In some deranged illusion?

Because we care only about ourselves
Even in helping we only care for us
We desire sweet compliments to hear
Accuse all others of being "selfish"

I'm selfish.
I won’t even try to deny
Even now, when I play the game
My ego and pride

Direct me
They don't control me, but they do play a part
They make me see things a different way
Because of how they've affected my heart

In the past
I was hurt and secluded
Told I wasn't worth anything
That was the part that was awarded

To me. the part of the
"poor, helpless, girl"
Who would one day take her own life
To escape this dreadful world.

They tried.
The false one and his minions tried with all their might
I still remember those cold days
I spent crying into the night.

No friends, no family
My sister would spit at my sight
My father and mother loved me and cared
But could not be there or understand what it was like

To be…or not to be
That became the question I had to ask
To die or not to die
To live…or not to last

Forever.
That was what I learned
Nothing lasts forever
And what does has to be earned

Painfully.
You think my trip to reality was easy?
Giving up the names I had been given
To see the world clearly?

No.
That is what I said at first
Believe it or not even for someone with a harsh past,
The stage lights are still a thirst

Unquenchable.
So I began to try and return
But you cannot fog up the mirror once it's cleared
Unlearn what has been learned.

So instead I fought day by day
Tried to feign ignorance
I ignored the reality surrounding the play
Pretend that I was innocent

Innocent? Me?
Not even close.
The darkness that surrounds my heart is too large
Maybe good at most.

Good…yeah that sounds right.
I’m a very good girl.
I turn a blind eye to the actors in pain
That live in this god-forsaken world.

I allow myself up on the stage
Though I had no strings.
I watched the puppets move about
And I'd always catch a glimpse of seeping

Tears.
Falling from the mask
Telling stories of horrible things the false one did
Of good that doesn't last.

I saw hatred and anger
Blood pouring from the side
From the knife welded in their back
To keep the puppet astride.

The knife is what burdens people hold,
And the names they won’t let go
The unspoken reason they're in this play
Why they won’t let themselves grow.

The things they get defensive about
I've been threatened and accused a few times
When I tried to force one knife out, the Game Master,
Took me off the stage and to the side.

"you cannot help them that way"
Is what He said the tears glistening down,
"this is the world they choose to live in,
The burdens they choose to carry round."

"in a never ending circle this play goes,
Never even going through the maze,
Always here they act for no one
And for the false ones contentment they stay."

"if you try to pull them away,
They'll say you are doing wrong.
They'll tell you that you're horrible
You're weak when they are strong."

"they will see you as nothing but a slave,
Because you play my Game.
You fight against the false one
Though you live in this fantasy all the same."

"I was one of them once"
I begin to cry. Watching as another falls
The Game master embraces me,
Then he stands up tall.

He's so regal the way he stands
With such determined, clear brave eyes
He goes back on the stage fearlessly, kneels next to the actor and cries.

When he cries he cries silently,
They cannot see his tears
He hides them so well,
Focusing only on stopping their fear.

For an instant the knife is gone
The strings vanish and the actor sees
When the mask is gone and the mirror unclouded
And the world is cast in reality.

Then they choose,
Many braver than me
To embrace this new
Reality.

Or they choose
To pretend it was a dream
And keep on chasing
The fantasy.

When they choose to don the armor
For the bloodthirsty Game
I can hear the heavens shouting
People calling out their name

With joyous praises they ring out the bells
You've never seen such a sight
Of someone who was shrouded in darkness
That has now come to light.

And I watch them enter the world once more
Changed and transforming
Being called crazy and deformed
Deranged and conforming

Conforming?
Conforming is the best type of rebellion.
By choosing the Game master
The world we've chosen is one

Of constant fighting.
The Game is not so pleasant
We must be torn down and get back up
But never raise a hand against

Anyone
For we are no longer with the grain
We've been sheaved into fine wheat
No longer just things to be played

With.
No longer shall we listen
But rather fight against the false ones horrid play
That we watch each day and stiffen

This play is grotesque
The sets are sloppily painted, the costuming worse
But terrible of all is the acting
Which is so obviously forced.

So we fight against the false one
And we try to show the actors
The reality beyond the fantasy play
Which is so much better

So is all the world a stage
And all the people the actors?
Or is all the world a game
And all the people the players?

Comments

kaitlynchosenisme

In my Philosophy class, we were talking about how we know what is real and what is not. I started thinking and this poem came from it.

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