In a world of fake, what comprises real?
Who are we? We who enjoy a good novel,
many a fine movie, make up to cover the
blemishes, push up bras, slenderizing girdles,
and fast cars as we use our crutches and
walkers . . . So, who are we in reality? It's
a hard call to pull off real in today's world.
We face each day with a torrent of ads,
all of which are about helping us to lose
weight, look prettier, gain popularity,
enhance muscle, and sell our souls to the
highest bidder. I'm not saying that the
fictitious has no place in our lives, I would
simply prefer that the non-fiction were the
meat and potatoes and the fiction the dessert.
Bottom line . . . who do I want to be when
I grow up? Do I have the courage to strive
for real? Can I leave popular fashion behind
and dress for comfort? Am I up to reading
literature over movies every night? Can I
give comfort over platitudes? Will I ever be
the real me and give up on the fictitious?
Just point me in the right direction and tell
me where I can sign up . . .
longing for real
so tired of fairy tales
courage to be me
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