Red pill or blue? Brother, I chugged down the whole damn bottle, consequences be damned and now my world, my life, my soul exist in some swirling, whirling topsy turvy, state of perpetual purpleness.
Is it all some dream, some nightmare? A prison for unruly souls deemed too unsafe, too unevolved for the greater universe? Perhaps as the eastern wisemen claim, this world is simply a school where young souls come to learn, though the distinction between the two is really quite unclear. Both are places in which you’re forced to be against your will; sit still, be quiet, do as you’re told, go here, do this, be this, be that, sit down, shut up.
I pop my head over the prison walls for a moment and my fellow inmates, my fellow students have no hesitation in reminding me that it’s dangerous to go exploring, they say: “Where do you think you’re going? You have everything you need right here, there’s nothing past the walls anyway, it’s a wasteland. Nothing exists outside of what we have built, climb back down now, there’s a good lad”
But I can’t climb back down, I’ve seen what lays just over that wall, the very wall which we ourselves carefully constructed, brick by brick, lie by lie until eventually, it was all we knew.
I look down at my family, my friends, and my lovers and beg them to join me, to come and see the unfathomable wonders that I have merely glimpsed, let us explore them as one. My heart breaks at their refusal, and their mockery.
I am cursed, I am blessed. I now understand what it means to be blissfully ignorant.
I cannot leave them, yet I cannot stay and thus I exist in this limbo, this perpetual purple prison.
I knew those mushrooms were a bad idea.