Everything going on around him. Music, voices, un-ending. A brief lapse. A moment of clarity. Gone. All around him everything seems so real. And everything is. But he is unaware that he has created this himself. This is his world, and only his.
Reality haunts him. That is his reality. That is his creating. But now he is aware. But the steps to change it are unknown to him. Is it even possible to change it? Is it worth changing? Of course, but not as much as he thinks he should.
He does not have as much freedom as he believes. Incorrectly he blames himself, pushes himself to the limit. Always striving. That’s how he has gotten to where he is. He is stronger for pushing through. And yet, how much his life would improve simply by realizing circumstance doesn’t always play to his hand. How much easier everything could be if he accepted the fickle nature of circumstance.
But there is more to creating his reality than just accepting. It is imperfect. It will always be imperfect. But he can choose his imperfections for his reality. He can choose his biases and how he perceives reality. He must.
Walking around, he sees things not as they are, for that would be futile. He sees things in conjunction with what he wants and what they are. A combined perspective. It is the only way to be sane.
Inspiration is always short-lived. But in its inevitable end, there is a potential. A potential for a seed to be planted. An idea to grow, to eventually resurface later in life completely undetected. Completely your own. Because sometimes, ideas of others just won’t work. Sometimes, the only way to progress is to lean on yourself. So lean. But don’t forgot the others.