What is real to you

      The computer screen turns on, I sit in my chair, in my prison. The tint light coming from a window illuminating the room. Everything is dead, still and silent. I turn on music and the scene changes, memories flow like a river. Only this moment at dawn is real to me. I hope it lasts, it's a lie I want to believe in, do you have any lies you want to believe in ?
      Everything is a mist, people are shadows wafting amidst the thickets of illusions. What I desire resembles dusk's last dying light in winter. It all seems surreal. The vicious cycle repeats itself as I watch others wade through filth and dirt of the world. For my eyes are open to the realities of this realm, for I know what I am  '' Only a human''. This summarizes everything. No need to further expand, for those who understand. Fate in its infinite wisdom subjugated me to its own whim, once I came to be. I implored her to grant me liberty from this thralldom, but alas. My hopes were just as comforting to me like a picture of oxygen to a drowning man.