Reality, really real or really denied,
Duly upheld or wantonly maligned?
What does denigrate empirical actuality?
What does constitute absolute reality? Is it the solemn fantasy of the retired intellectual?
Or the brutal activity of the hardened criminal.
A piece of pantomime badly written?
Or the orderly inclusion of things forbidden. Is it the preemptive clear vision of the perfectionist?
Or the embarrassed ambivalence of the dualist.
The dogged resolution of the astute politician?
Or the meek resignation of the battered proletarian. Does reality enjoy uncompromised identity?
Or does it endure an awkward anonymity.
Are dream events part of existential realities?
Are shifting images blue prints of possibilities. Is it real in a relationship to seek catharsis?
Or is it merely for convenience and symbiosis.
Is reality really experiential?
Or is reality illusory, only virtual.