Sometimes we are confused by what we read.
Likewise there could be someone stupid enough to believe in the realworld entity we know--
As of today the pope fell down the stairs 8 times. The same amount of guesses it took little jimmy to assemble his rubic's cube after having dismantled his mother's lipstick case with a mallet. My wallet was lost on the street. It would ask for directions, but no one would listen. It was all too ridiculous when the continuous throat ache resulted in my loss of hearing. And even though I should be cold, I feel as hot as that day I layed on the sand for 6 hours and didn't result a tan, but a very troubled soul. Existence is not resistance to a color on my skin. I am pale. As ghostly as the invisible people my grandmother hallucinates.
I love that word. It can apply to so many things, yet we hint at it's existence and deny it all credibility. Like the good pathological co-dependent.
Geriatric to the world and yet equally as stimulating, like good old ipecac.