The pieces of my life fall so quickly, sometimes I cant fully grasp the reality of the real world. That's when the barrier between reason and desire are broken. Actions of imagination so affectionately become actions of reality, and actions of strong emotion become action of hate and violence. It's only when you have caused the pain that you are brought back into reality. When the person is dead from the inside out and the silence that follows eats you alive do you realize the severity of your actions; actions that started as twisted thoughts and seemingly unrealistic desires. You wait for the guilt to come flooding into you body but it never does and never will and you know it. So you are trapped in you own hell of reality. So in reality, the next time you think something, reality is everything. Nothing exists but your own reality, so anything goes.
             The question can be asked in the heart of any man: What is reality? Is not something different to everyone? Yet, is there not some preconceived notion to the definition of an abstract so individual to the mind that it cannot be personally shared by anyone one man at any given moment? Or does it not remain an enigma in the minds of a select few intellectuals who have the mysteries of the universe unlocked in their minds? The mere concept itself brings people a certain reassurance of themselves, as in their minds a concrete outline of their existence is present through their perceptions thereof.
             For an absolute definition to be put on reality would be a travesty in the courts of the mind. Yet, people need that concrete concept or chaos will result within them and reciprocate in society.
             Which leads to another misconceived notion of insane people who have no concept of reality. Their reality exists inside themselves as does mine and yours. What makes them so different? Perceptions of reality? Is it our place to confine them in institutions for their seemingly dif
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