Title.

Every book needs a title, just as every person needs a name. The title, in the end, is always irrelevant. It may appeal to our senses or some type of subconscious desire, but ultimately it is the content under the title that gives birth to the soul of the book, the person, and this blog.

So here it is. My Conflated. Reality.

I give birth to words with no meaning, confusing my dreams into my waking life. Reality blurs, blending its colors into the tomorrows of yesterday and the yesteryear of this year. Lost in days that no longer exist my existing days are washed away by the fabrication of thought that seems to swallow my reality on a daily basis. Its always turning backwards or looking forwards, leaving the present place-less. Forced to stand on its own it is always hoping. always wanting. For that- new day. The day when dreams are just memories, swept up gently and cascading for use by the abundance. The day when conflated realities are disintegrated into the purity needed to save my soul's sanity from its drowning veracity. When will I just be. Until then, I will give birth to words with no meaning because this is my Conflated.Reality.