When the excitement
of taking the red pill
wears off
there’s a certain kind
of diss-illusionment

that comes from life
in thread-bare clothes
and no more bacon.

There’s no pain
quite like
the realisation
of disconnection
and in the early days
its not uncommon
to be nostalgic
for your
just fading
ignorance.

Yet…
a snake
does not attempt
to re-apply
his dried out skin
and no butterfly
in her right mind
would ever

re-enter
the cocoon.

The only way out
is through.

more chaos.
darker shadow.
 follow the fear.

that which

sounds wrong
to conditioned ears.
is probably right.

judge it not

by whether you agree
but by whether
it produces discord
in the parts of you
that cling.