It’s all about the image we think we project
Into the space where our realities intersect
It’s not really a place where anything exists
But somehow the images of ourselves persist
Kept alive by our desires and imaginations
Feeding on our fears and our frustrations
Cuz that’s who we want people to think we are
Somehow we don’t think this practice is bizarre
We don’t think it’s strange or peculiar or odd
That we create realities and pretend to be gods
Or that the gods we worship are all created
In our own images, it’s complicated
We don’t care about the image anyone else sees
Unless they see something we don’t want them to believe
That’s the only time we are ever concerned
This is something that does not even have to be learned
And so this is how we go about our days
Projecting our images into that space
Where we imagine our images really exist
Surrounded by an imaginary invisible mist
That keeps everything as real as we want it to be
And everyone sees what we want them to see
Because it’s all about the image we think we project
Into the space where our realities intersect
Photo by Sofiia Skrypka via Unsplash
