I.

Becoming sober, waking after years
Of wallowing, the inner absolute
Authoritarian of laughs and tears,

Involves some effort.  Shouting, "You, there! Shoot!"
Will [i]not[/i] provoke a gun to blast away
When power's gone and left you destitute.

The virt-cha-world I ruled? Denounced as play!
Abandoned! Now I face reality
And call it quite the sweetest holiday.

The former pressure? Pure monotony!
Within my sphere, my subjects never blink
Unless I say. It lacks democracy.

Imaginary creatures seldom think,
Will starve until I tell them "eat!" or "drink!"
 
                         II.

Unhealthy. Codependent. Truly blind.
The introvert's dilemma: choose control
Of something false? Or peer beyond to find

A solid place where science spreads its soul,
Where flower scent begins and textures dwell,
Where food has crunch, and music, rock and roll.

I haven't slept in days, of course. It's Hell!
Explosive revelations flood my eyes
With images I once would just dispel.

It takes a pill or two to blunt my sighs,
Convincing every flinching thought, "Relax.
Of [i]course[/i] the situation horrifies!

"Causality's in charge! The truth attacks
And leaves us gasping flat upon our backs!"

                        III.

Pretend is lovely, yes, I will admit.
To wrap myself eternally in dreams
Compelled my thoughts for decades. Then I quit.

I smelled myself in flowing, fragrant streams,
Reflected faces popping everywhere,
Philosophies the same despite regimes.

I need the other, need to blankly stare
At someone else's way of thought and deed
From civil rights to how I comb my hair.

Opinions all display a certain greed,
A wish to lodge in every human brain.
To fight that tendency's my current need.

So out I crash! My knees and ankles sprain!
I'll know the outer world or go insane!