Imagination

I am not very sure of the existence of the things
In a real life
Because there always seem to be
A difference and a distance between two things
And I don’t have the right mind
To measure them
Or technically, I don’t have the right working mechanism
In the left hemisphere of my brain
I mean, I was really feeling the distance was shrinking
At 10 meter per breath
When she was running away from me
Or when she asked me to break up in a de-facto way
And her email in my inbox was still intact
I told her we are not different and we are beautiful
Equally beautiful creatures                
Except the fact that I have more chronic depression than she does
And she had charming lips whenever I told her jokes
I’ve been asking myself why can’t we keep the happiest time
With each other
When even the most ignorant government in the world is trying to make love
With the ethnic armed forces
Out of my imagination,
Life becomes bumpier than the road before my house
And riskier than playing a computer game for fourteen successive hours
I sort of hate to say life is a journey and blah blah blah
You know, I can just plug cotton buds in my ears and sleep
While these motherfuckers are huddling together
On the Newsfeed of my Facebook account
Having the competition of la personne la plus réussie dans le monde
I seem to discover that the people who I could talk to in my imagination
Become loathsome and horrible spiders that seem to crawl up to me from my legs
And suck all my brain like zombies
Unlike their counterparts in my imagination
Everything are so real
The reality of bullets only kill real victims
And the real cars bump into real men and they die a real death
And their real women moan for their real men for the real accidents
I see no point to accept the reality
When I can afford to dwell in the imagination zone of my own
In a real life, I do not dwell in