Balancing the oversight and the honed sight is an art. Knowing that the game you play is game yet, an important one. It’s an art. To know that your vote matters only in the context of participation, not in the matter of outcome. Knowing that your taxes are only a matter of accountability, not in the matter of contribution. Knowing that the time is an “illusion” yet, it’s what rules you. Knowing that what you eat consumes, and exhausts you, yet “nourishes” and strengthens you. Knowing that what you learn is something you already know, so it’s more the act of unlearning and reteaching that makes you think it’s brand new information. The act in itself is therapeutic, bating, illusory. A lie. It’s done anyway, because well it’s what you’re bread for. It’s what you know and learn, and taught and promoted. It’s just the way. It’s blindness at its best, to see what’s in front, all around, and still choose to participate in the lie. But the game is real, it’s enlisted, and you’re offered…
The life you want to work for, the friends you want to fake with, the love you want to lose. It’s the game of acting and scripting and dancing. Moving to the beat you subscribe to or the one that you may create. Moving to the next round, or moving back in time in space. Moving up in class and status or moving up in state. The dance of choice, although influenced. The dance of choosing is your game. Blindly being picked and worn like the newest fad. Blindly being pulled on and pawned. Sleeping as you wake, and waking when you sleep. The art of sight is choosing how and when to be there; when you're acting... or acting when you’re there. The art of knowing the difference and seeing yourself in this place.