Let The Jagged Edge Of Sobriety Be

He Stood There For A Moment Looking Around The Silent Room, Shaking His Head Slowly. All These Books, He Thought, The Residue Of A Planet’s Intellect, The Scrapings Of Futile Minds, The Leftovers, The Potpourri Of Artifacts That Had No Power To Save Men From Perishing.

It Is My Conviction That Basic Reality Is Not All That Perplexing. What Seems Difficult To Assimilate Are The Manifold Details Of Reality, Not Its Fundamental Elements.

What Condemnation Could Possibly Be More Harsh Than One’s Own, When Self-pretense Is No Longer Possible?

Each Memory Was Brought To Life Before Me And Within Me. I Could Not Avoid Them. Neither Could I Rationalize, Explain Away. I Could Only Re-experience With Total Cognizance, Unprotected By Pretense. Self Delusion Was Impossible, Truth Exposed In This Blinding Light. Nothing As I Thought It Had Been. Nothing As I Hoped It Had Been. Only As It Had Been.

If You Go Too Far In Fantasy And Break The String Of Logic, And Become Nonsensical, Someone Will Surely Remind You Of Your Dereliction....pound For Pound, Fantasy Makes A Tougher Opponent For The Creative Person.