Most human beings are unwilling to look into their own mirror reflection, preferring rather at the same instant to 'seeing through the looking glass', as if this enchanting fantasy were the actual reality.
In Shakespearean terminology it transliterates into "all the worlds a stage... to be or not to be" real; or applying psychological terminology, chronically 'acting out'.
This is the conundrum in the quest.
Apropos for Thanksgiving?
A Delusion of Grandeur?
'I' have not thoughts on my own
'I' am but a transient physical receptacle of this other reality of which
'I' am but the pen of the universality of
'I' or truth.
It is to the metaphysical that 'I' must give thanks!
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