Simply Fiction

The nerves fire at overdrive, the tummy tucks in and tenses, the shoulders tighten, and the mind shutters with cluttered thoughts. The social identity of each modern man is more than willing to confuse itself into ever more stressful states of emotion. The ego finds itself binded to the instinctive urge that somehow assumes its survival is at stake. A myriad of daily tasks and chores are suddenly undertaken with the same force and urgency as would be required to leap from the chase of lions or rush down a narrow precipice. Illusionary strains are seen with delusionary eyes. In such a jumbled state of affairs most men have lost the ability to relax and so intentionally melt away their imaginary tensions. Beyond the pressing matters that life hypnotizes everyone to believe is real, there is very little that actually threatens a calm man’s sense of peace. This is the principal that is lost — the nagging reminder to come back to reality, breath in full loads of fresh air, and clear the eyes of what is simply fiction. The world grows more and more complicated each and every passing day, but a man himself can be renewed and refreshed with a sense of simplicity that clears away all of the unnecessary clutter and confusion.

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