Theater

All the screens are staged...

Yes... this again. Shakespeare. Shaken not stirred. 

We are back to the center of the spotlight, for we wandered for decades now, struggling to find our place. And in this stage of stages, we lurk for the meaning of a single breath. For life is immortal in the single present of the limelight. 

It may only be a glimmer of attention by all, but in this spec of a planet, we find ourselves playing the role of our lives -  our own. 

By the end of the day, such as it was in its beginning, we are confined to the character our soul has written for us. 

So the theater, the public, the stage, the sets, the extras, the players, all that is material becomes insubstantial, as the dream fades reality into the night time of oblivion. 

I know that I will awake tomorrow to play the part that is bestowed upon me, even if I linger at night... daydreaming of what am I suppose to be throughout this lifetime.

 

Life is filled with tricks, but we can only fall for the ones that are meant to sooth our comfort. 

Reality is as painless as we allow it to be, but still we wonder about the pain that we suffer in the mortal coil. 

Resistance is futile - pain or no pain, this play will end when the curtain of existence is pulled in front of our eyes - and at last our essence is freed from the pins that sting us to the worldly stage we inhabited for a day or a century. Our shackles are at last broken, and the applause can be heard in the tears of all the souls we touch during our life's performance.