Enveloped in Fantasy

 Three words hung in the air. Levitating in gracious glory to his unwanted ignored truth. First was Fantasy, but precisely his love for it. And the other... 

The other, a repertoire to his flaws, tied to his significant attraction to Fantasy. The identified mystery, though as plain as it seemed left a retort to the acceptance of this facts, even if brought to the physical, he was left with a cause of unidentified denial.

Lastly, the brother, a tickle from the chaos theory, a threatening coalition of a figment and an existing phenomena, 'Reality'. Where his existing and conflicted nature derived the only emotion of fear.

The introduction of fantasy, a world that caressed and eased him off his troubles, where incompetence existed as capabilities without fail, no fall, but dominance.

The exception of his realistic existence was leisure of his consumption of delicacies, and maybe, if only pleasure from women.

Contrast to the ill giving number two of the levitating words, but what drove him to the corner to make such an abrasive conclusion to the whereabouts of his sanity?

Sanity, the words stood apart from the three, or could it be the fourth? Enveloped in a world in escape from another. All he wished was a true possibility of this emaculate. dream. 


M¿ster¿°°°



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