She said "Perception is reality," and I wondered if it were true, as I stood two feet on the ground and my head drifted away. She told me a story of how things had always been, what with the flaws and arrogance and misfit adolescents. All through the words I could only hear something different in my head, a beat of drums on a still desert night somewhere. Moonlight earth clear sky, and a tribe of free souls whirling, a dervish inside the night. The drum beating, and this omniscient voice reiterating itinerary and dogma regulation. This was a juxtaposition of imagination and the reality of my true situation. Pure entertainment bordering on enlightenment. Perception had become reality, and I had joined the desert dance. The big rocks and white tall grass (glowing in the moonlight like snow), it all melted into a blur of feeling rather than details. I had always wondered about escapism and when I found it, I found I no longer cared.

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