It Felt Real



I was told, and with much urgency, that it was not really real. What was ‘it’, I had wondered, and with much amusement. Pedigree amusement for those who can afford… and those who can afford are in for a fascinating life of dark fantasies and high end existential crisis. A friend, who every night woke up laughing like a mad man for a whole dark month of lunacy, seemed to have sealed a Faustian pact of the most expensive kind, wherein he was encouraged and enabled to look at his beloved Luna through a complex arrangement of glass and steel, so he could steal directly into the ugliest face of the beautiful Luna and realizing the ill-informed nature of his love, simply stop loving. His lunacy giving way to an unfeeling emptiness and just the right amount of urgency to tell me, that it was not really real. What was ‘it’, I had wondered, but then there was a war and people I knew were killed. It felt real, and with much intensity.

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