ice-cream.

say in a crazy, whacked parallel universe things were different.
we could pass each other on the street, make eye contact
i could be the girl of your dreams,
you could be the colour in my b&w life
and this could be some disgusting, cute love story.

but no- in this world, in this reality
we met at the club and made seedy, drunken eye contact
i happened to be a girl who got your attention
you just happened to be caucasian x:
and this turned out to be another typical skanky night

in this particular dimension,, i already have a favourite
and if i was a colour, it would be me.
in this ugly, corrupt world dreams are tainted
and are usually driven by a selfish ulterior motive.
this me redefines selfishness and indifference.

in another world, another me is living my far-fetched dreams.
another me has already met the guy i never will,
a home that's never empty and a father who never yells.
she had the childhood i missed, the innocence i lost
and genuinely believes in a greater good.

if fantasies are another's reality, can it still be a fantasy?
by definition, a fantasy should be purely psychological.
imaginative conceptualisation. all in the head.
what if my reality, was her fantasy?
which would be fantasy and reality? what's real and what's not?
what the hell do i want /:

- jae.