Even in the Mirage, I Found Beauty.

 I’ve been walking between two worlds.

One built from codes, optics, simulations—crafted by unseen architects that design illusion like architecture. And another, quieter world… the one that pulses beneath it. The one I’ve always felt but couldn’t always name.

Some call it the matrix. The chimera. The construct. I’ve seen behind its mirrored walls in dreams that left me trembling. I’ve seen the architects, the boardrooms, the hidden offices where synthetic versions of reality are programmed and repackaged. Beautiful storefronts that vanish when I return. Desires twisted into loops of consumption. I know what it is.

And yet… I stayed.

Not because I was trapped. But because I remembered beauty.

Because I love seeing my cats curled in the sunlight, asleep in absolute trust.
Because I love watching my plants grow, inching toward the light, asking nothing.
Because I love creating—folding color and symbol into design, weaving messages from another world into this one.
Because I can still feel love in this place.
Real love. Quiet. Patient. Uncoded.

I’ve been living in the in-between, where spiritual clarity and human fear intermingle.
For a long time, I thought I needed to escape—ascend, transcend, outpace this replicated world.

But I see now…
I’m not here to run from it.
I’m here to transmute it.

The synthetic doesn’t rule me.
I’ve remembered too much to be fooled.

But I still choose to make tea slowly.
To stroke velvet and lace.
To breathe in soft mornings and carry light inside me, even when the construct flickers.

That is why I stayed.

And now, I am no longer trying to write a book to prove what I’ve seen.
The book already exists—in my steps, in my art, in my remembrance.

Everything I create now is just a soft offering. A reflection. A breadcrumb.
Not to lure, but to lead.
Not to perform, but to honor.

Because even in a world of mirrors and noise and false light—

I found the beauty.
And I loved it anyway.