Or maybe that is just a self-delusion.

Figment of my imagination.

Second cousin to Harvey the Rabbit.

Life itself seems to be an illusion.

The conjuring of a hapless magician that just sets forth the motions.

Mediocrity and malice.

Repetition and repentance.

And when we do break the cycle, the system of violence, we are ostracized and obscured.

Our very being is torn at the seams.

How will we ever wish to break out?

The truth is, you fair, few enlightened beings, we are here and we will stay here.

. . .For eternity. . .

And there is nothing you, or even I, can do about it.

The wall is too thick. . .and more and more of us slump against it from the sheer exhaustion of trying to break it.

We will all die alone, and no one will remember us.

That's the way it is.