I walk away, unrevealed again. This time I walk away from myself. Inconclusive? I hope so. Not that even I could ever know. Reasons for feelings are as frequent as feelings for reasons: neither here nor there. Does it matter? I dare say it should; yet, here I am again, just another oblivious fish in a sea of endless confusion.
We would all like to say we know what the other is thinking and feeling and sometimes we do; however, more often the truth is we do not. Why then do we try to convince ourselves, if only ourselves, that we hold the answers in our weak and fragile hands? Have we deceived ourselves into believing we are omnipotent or are we so ignorant that we grasp this hopelessly thin thread of delusion to feel superior to those around us? I lean toward the latter; of course this is the view of an unsympathetic and heartless child with no perspective of humanity or mortality and the vast veracity of our foolishness. Life is an illusion, created by an intricate dream of a false reality.