Theater.

It started out with a dream, and the most significant part was the number 14. That's how many seconds we were able to last. You were keeping score. I noticed, so I one-upped and wrote 15. Maybe it'd give us something to strive for, next peek. Somehow, you ended up on my left side and finally spoke. Unfortunately, all you did was inform me of a quote. As a result, what you said was something about a phallic object being over-used. Still- underneath your actual words, I heard a tone of something like "You know, we're not always going to have this chance. We might as well enjoy it (or do something about it)" That's when I actually had to wake up, and walk around.

Before that conclusion of the dream, in hindsight, the storyline was a premonition of the subject-matter of the actual day that was ahead. I was in a car. I did things that would offend anyone who had known me, previously. This person was offended, but it was settled. We had all sat down to watch some animated feature about animals. At a point there were three animals, separated by two lines on the screen. The cartoon outlines of the animals had stood stagnant, and the shape of the animals were essentially a maze. In the actual context of the maze, the edges were bumpers in which all biological matter of the animal had exited the body. These animated creatures were decaying, from the inside.

Then came the part where you joined me. If you know who "you" are, then it can only mean you remember the same dream. We were keeping track of the time it took us to be able to look into the eyes of one another. One another. I know. It legitimizes itself because, like I said, I had to wake up. When I did wake up, it was one exactly one hour before the time I had planned to wake up. I had a plan, this day. I was thrown an empty package of birth-control pills to throw away. I asked what these ones in the middle are for. Mon. Tue. Wed. Thur. Fri. Sat. So on. The ones in the middle- blatant placebo. That would be the word that echoes throughout the day. Placebo. It's just so elementary.

I had time to prepare, so I actually considered which parts of my plan I would actually keep the same. It turns out, that placebo was involved- in contrast to what I did not think. Reunited with the road, and our party grew. It hit me. We had to walk around, so that our pride would not get a little bit "vintage." Our first stop was in the corner store that everybody steals from. I call it that because I was the last one out. I remember convincing myself that there had actually been gummy cyanide candies, inside. There's no telling how long I was actually in the store, or how long I actually did drink from the water fountain. I held some water in my mouth, reminiscent of when you weren't allowed to keep drinking from the fountain in earlier school days. I was looking in a mirror when I finally took that last sip, as if I had gone back for an entire other drink.

It took forever for me to finally walk outside, and to realize that the figures outside waiting were actually each one of the people I had walked here with. We finally sat down, and that's exactly it. I stopped moving. They stopped moving. I made a point, I disappeared. My plan showed up. A table of a lot of mascots for the month, thus far. Here for me, that's where it began. This was my chance, but the two days prior were intended for forgetting what I would do in this situation. It wasn't the hypothetical situation that I could expand upon for hours, but it was somewhat of a digit. All through the day, people asked my if that was a "heart" on my neck. It was just red marker. One of the first few words that were said involved the variation of 'placebo' that caught me off guard. Someone was going to call me a phony.

Two people met, and I couldn't enjoy it. People meeting each other is one of my favorite situations. Sometimes that situation would cause me to scream. It was for the better. I remember trying my hardest to figure out the word I was looking for to portray the visual of a tv-personality's lines being scrolled up through a monitor. I had to think of that in order to explain how someone had previously been speaking in paragraphs. Underneath, something much more important happened this day.

It took me about three hours to eat the box of rice and beans that I was fooled into buying, when I needed it the most. Slowly, several disappointeds came and went. I didn't disappoint them, at all. My piece of disappointment came from the delivery of some message I thought I would be able to send. There were some people who were around me, for the sake of being around me. I didn't know it. There were several times, in the past, that I wanted to be around them. I didn't hear what I wanted. That's what makes me a phony. A synthetic. Intellectuals want groups of intellectuals because they have a higher concentration of being alone. Being alone makes words that much harder to hit. You can't really hide for two weeks, and expect to jump out and tell someone why they should hide. Redeem yourself, and just present it to them like you had planned.

So, there. One takes shape of the real thing, but it doesn't really give much effort in to being portrayed as the real thing- that one ends up being the disappointment. The other somehow gets help from others into being just something similar. A clear case of "Hell, why not?" So, I claimed not to know. I didn't know it then, but my state of being stubborn fixed my dilemma that I was trying to enact the entire weekend. Eventually, it's a paradox, but now I just need a lot of replacements. A lot of Hell, why not's. Some imaginary friend, they've got. In the same breath, I don't want to give any person the satisfaction of being imaginary if that's what they claim to be.

Although, now that I think about it, we're probably giving the same reaction. Gabbing and being gabbed about. If only our spokesperson swapped places. It'd make the story a little bit more suspenseful. So my plan, and paradox, was just detachment. That being done, just means it's time to go on with the rest of the day. That's when I remembered that I just couldn't. This was the last stroke before my portrait dries. My next mission was to figure out who I thought I was. Something like that.

I was told who my mom and my sister were. They're just names, this day. I was told that I wasn't doing enough. It was a parody of publicity, spoken by those who mirror it. Researching me, they know that I'm somewhat of an alter ego. I'm a generous alter ego with no need to hide the original person. I will, however, hide the name. It'll show up, inevitably. I found them because I was separated from my central "group." I was apart from my temporary group- the friends you end up with on a field trip. I had left the tabloids. Again, I was in the middle of a crowded town center. I heard the same voice that I heard one year ago. One of the local bands that perform here, each year. That's when I was convinced of my latest theory. The one where I shamefully agree that we're all in the same year, always. It made sense, this time.

There was another part where I had tried to explain my theory that I had just before that one. It's ok, though. There's only one missing piece. The second time I explained that one, was when I realized a common theme in children. I was with another group, the new-schoolers. I looked down to see a child calling my name because he looks up to me, in a matter of thinking. Hell, I can't disappoint him. I can't let him down, even if he only thinks I'm from the tv- which I am not. I asked the new school advice on what I should be doing with my life. I asked because I expected them to answer with exactly what their parents are giving them. They surprised me, but only left me with what I had already known. Who isn't thinking about travel, in this situation?

I convinced myself that my descendant was staring deep into my eyes. Still a baby. This was the second one that let me know what I was doing. I was walking around, station-to-station, asking who I was and what I should do. Looking for more, I ended up near where I want to be one day. That's when my televised group showed up. They were looking for me, and I went into the place that I want to go one day. I had been there before, it was no big deal, but circumstance is a factor. With them, I was reunited with the personal effects of my group. This was a point where I would not say a word. Lost, and revolving around me, this was my self. There was the mother and father, the insecure, the introverted, the skeptic, and the subconscious. I'm just as ashamed as their ability to decide, but they were a working body. My body walked through the area, just as I do when I wander. We detached again. This time, minus the introverted and the skeptic. We were among the casual.

Toward the end of it all, I realize that I am who I am in others. Out-of-body, I could practically be nothing more than a fake profile. I could be the main character of everyone's favorite story wrapped into one protagonist. Just as an imaginary person can be remembered in legends, folklore, and handed down stories- I can be remembered in casual conversation. Physically, I am represented in the actions of a group of any given number of friends. Quite literally, I'd be a desperate attempt of a child's imagination to create bs.

Feeling doesn't matter much to me, I guess. I can empathize, sympathize, and even synthesize (maybe even "peepathize")- but feeling is not a reaction I will ever aim for. I guess that swaps one letter. What I realized, through this visual journey, was just a couple of hints for what I can do. I think. This time, I hope not to disappoint.

I am myself, and I might as well be my fake self. Your self.