Drop by drop the infatuation is diluted until one day it becomes apparent that there never was anything there at all. Solipsistic introjection to the rescue! This is all just a game for me... no, wait, I can do better than that: None of this is real.
Are the lies we tell ourselves the most destructive and also the most necessary?
Is there a feeling more lonely than the realisation that you are a stranger unto yourself?
Are you a stranger unto yourself?
Am I qualified to critisize others? Yes, because I am not blind to my own faults. How do you react to information diametric to your own reality tunnel? Do you reject the information outright, rationalize it, or embrace it with all its ugly uncomfortable implications?
Have you experienced the liminal realization of self fallibility? It is naïve to think that your Destination of Self is in the past and not the future. The liminal is not always a moment, instant or suddon epiphany but can be stretched out weeks or even years-a hallway not a threshold. Brother, where have we been? Where are we going sister?
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