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Illusion by each Step

It was all too warm for being the end of December.
    I was sitting on the bus, in the middle of nowhere, and from my earphones I could hear Janis Joplin sing in her crying, half-hysterical, but at the same time hopeful, yet so sad way, as only she can. And I though that if everything would end here and now I wouldn't mind it at all. Then I thought that it must be pretty cowardly to be thinking like that; to rather end things while I'm still on the top so I wouldn't have to face the downhill, which always seemed to be there.

But when I heard Joplin sing about love and pain and all those things everything felt so hopeless and sad and painful and beautiful and pleasant at the same time. And as my emotions began mixing I felt that there was no room for me, there on the bus, in the middle of nowhere, so I turned my head and I stared out through the window at the landscape which was passing me by. And I thought that this was an illusion... it was I who was moving and not the landscape outside.

Then I shut my eyes and for a while the world turned black. And as I opened them again everything was still there, just as I left it, as if it had been waiting for me. Patiently. The landscape was still moving outside where the trees stood without any leafs. The name, carved into the wood, at the seat in front of me was also there. Everything looked exactly the same. But I knew nothing was. Things had changed. Things are constalty changing. And if we wouldn't have eyes we wouldn't be so easy to fool.

Don't trust your eyes. They're never quite acurate, they never speak the truth. A world of millions and millions, is actually very Desolate.

Fool or be fooled. The on-line, 'zine illusion. Brought to you by Martin.

She lives in a small town named Flen and doesn't really know if that's good or bad. Her name is Elin and one of her favourite things to do is listening to live bands. She's also a wizz on the net creating homepages and writing somewhat personal things at this kind of community like thing called Reload.

Just playing. Just pretending. It's not for real, we're just mass halucinating. That's what RPG is all about. The worlds within yourself. Bring 'em out.

Words of poetry from an language illusionist. They say the troublesome part is to make the illusion brief. And so does Gavin Heck.

One always wonder about other peoples perception. How they perceive the world, the things beyond the world, and how they perceive you. don't you wonder who's loving you?

Perhaps the largest pretending of them all. The pretending of life and existence, and yourself. It takes some time to grasp the feeling, and come to the conclusion. But I think I have. I must have. I know I'm just alive.

Living, breathing, pretending, seeing, lieing, hallucinatin, flying. Breathe it in. Breathe it all in.

Take words and twist them some. Take songs and twist them some more. Bitch all you want, where you want. then say it your own way. The boy was in the hallway. Say it again.

The future is here. It's dark, and it's cold in its perfection. The Government is one and the citizen is the humble soldier. In Kallocain he is.

In the modern world today everything must fit into boxes. Cyber has become a prefix for each and everyone, and all. Naturally even the killers, the Cyber-Killers.