I've Lost It All

...or maybe, I had nothing but a stack of illusions, that I had to free myself from, all covering the sometimes dull, sometimes multicolored reality with a transparent, irridescent foil, yet so unbreathable.
I've lost myself, or maybe I've lost something that added extra weight and impaired my flight. Or maybe, I've found some new space for additional anchors, suppose I were a ship, sailing with no direction.
Well, I'm sick and tired of writing about me starring in centre of the universe-drama. And I'm bored, too.

The Man on the Moon...

...as seen in the parralel reality play, in flesh and bones, with a shiny round bald head, always in mood to classify everything and everyone, from the girl next door to the stones on the street, that have to have at leat one pathological trait.
Such a typical character, ubiquous I might say, if I weren't conscious that he's just one of many...
I'd say he's dreaming of a utopian moon, honey moon spread all over the blue sky, if possible, heart-shaped, and of clouds raining dollar bills...